


Capture

by ap_marvel



Category: Daredevil (TV), Star Wars Sequel Trilogy, The Punisher (TV 2017)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Rey is a badass, kylo ren is the punisher, snoke is a fuckin asshole, the star wars punisher au that nobody asked for, you're gonna suffer but you're gonna be happy about it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-31
Updated: 2020-03-12
Packaged: 2021-02-25 15:48:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 15
Words: 33,585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22498588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ap_marvel/pseuds/ap_marvel
Summary: "You are on trial for multiple homicides and you don't have a defense strategy in place." Her voice was heated. "You don't cooperate with us, it doesn't matter if I help you figure out who killed your family, you will never see justice." She took a breath, allowing herself to calm down before adding, "All you will do, the rest of your life, is rot in a goddamn jail cell."There was a long silence and Rey felt she had overstepped. It wasn’t her place to say anything, to even care this much about him. But she did. And she had displayed it out for him to see.Shit.A Punisher AU set in the events of season two Daredevil.
Relationships: Finn/Rose Tico, Kylo Ren/Rey, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 22
Kudos: 48





	1. Bono Malum Superate

**Author's Note:**

> I tried to make it possible to read without watching Daredevil, however it is so much more enjoyable if you have watched Daredevil and there are references/scenes of The Punisher both season one and two so if you haven't watched either of those shows I highly recommend. 
> 
> And yes, I have switched some genders of characters to fit with the Star Wars cast. Sue me. (please don't)
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

"it has been said that something as small as the flutter of a butterfly's wings can ultimately cause a typhoon halfway around the world.” – _Chaos Theory_

×××

It was a hot night for Hell's Kitchen, New York. The sweltering heat seemed to linger most inside the office of Dameron and Walker. The air conditioning unit was broken, and the fans were on their last legs, so instead they fanned their sweat away with spare sheets of paper. 

Rey had busied herself with solving their accounting issues. They were a few overdue notices away from being shut down and she had been using fake email accounts to use free trials of an accounting programme. She was worried that they were reaching the end of their tether. Finn was drinking coffee while going through some contracts and Poe was still eating the Chinese takeout he had bought for everyone, but he was too busy with work to eat while it was still fresh.

There was a heavy knock at their door. Rey looked up, seeing a dark outline of a figure through the frosted glass. She got up quickly, smoothing down her pencil skirt before opening the door. It was a somewhat short pale man, dark blond hair and a scowl that didn't seem to change at her presence.

"Dameron and Walker?" He asked gruffly.

"We're not open..." Rey started. She looked back, seeing Finn glance up from his desk. They hadn't had a client, at least not a money-paying client in a while. They couldn't afford to turn someone down right now. "What can we do for you, Mr...."

"Gunn. Zeke Gunn."

"Come in."

She opened the door wide enough to let him in before shutting closed behind him. She gestured towards the small but private meeting room, and Gunn sat down without a word. Finn and Poe were already shuffling papers away on their desks and entered the meeting room. Rey quickly grabbed her notebook and pen before joining them and closing the door behind her. They all settled down, making their introductions brief.

"I, uh. I don't know where to start," Gunn said quickly.

"How can we help Mr. Gunn?" Poe offered. He twirled a pen in his hand before putting the capped end in his mouth.

"Fifteen men, tough Irish. Armed. All of them blown away. It was a massacre." They exchanged glances. The Kitchen Irish weren't a gang to be messed with, along with the rest of the gangs that resided in Hell's Kitchen. They looked back at Gunn. "We weren't hit by any rival family there. We were hit by an army."

Poe leaned back, pulling out the chewed pen from his mouth. "That's quite a story."

"It's a fact. And believe me, you can go see for yourself. Burren Club, forty-seventh and tenth. Can't miss it," he said sardonically. "It's the part of New York that looks like a goddamn war zone."

"What's your... Involvement in their organization?" Finn asked in an uncomfortable tone.

"I've run with them for a long time. I don't deny it. Pick-ups, drop-offs, sometimes doing things I shouldn't be." He let out a heavy breath, shaking his head. "No question, I'm, I'm no choir boy. I'm tellin' ya, I just skirt the surface. Unlike the men I work for, and the guys that did this. I'm telling ya, I had nothing to do with that massacre."

"Assuming you're correct and the Irish were hit by a powerful crime syndicate tonight if you're the only one who survived, your good fortune's gonna rub some dangerous people the wrong way," Poe said, pointing his pen around as he spoke.

"No shit!" Gunn growled. "I got a pack of killers gunning for my men. My people think I'm a traitor or a rat."

"So, what can Dameron and Walker do for you?" Rey asked.

"Witness protection. You guys need to get me the hell out of here before I end up in the only place hotter than this."

"We're a private law firm." Finn pointed out, narrowing his eyes at Gunn.

"Yeah, a trustworthy one. Quite a reputation too, helping people who can't afford it."

He was right. But they were barely holding up with the little payments their usual clients could give. Dameron and Walker wouldn't last long without a good client and although Gunn wasn't the usual good working class types, it didn't look like they had much of a choice.

"The DA's office is the only place that can make a deal," Finn explained slowly, as Gunn hadn't quite understood his previous statement.

"Yeah, I'm not walking to the DA without representation." Gunn leaned forward. "I know a lot. I seen a lot. I'll give the cops anything to get me out of Hell's Kitchen."

"Well, we have a reputation for representing the good people of Hell's Kitchen, not for negotiating on behalf of career criminals." Finn folded his arms, shaking his head at Poe.

"What if a criminal wants to change his career? A second chance, that's all I want. I know I'm only coming here with my word. I got nobody to vouch for me, but I can barely cover your fee. But word is that Dameron and Walker put their faith in people." He looked at Rey, who seemed to have some sympathy for the man. "And I need a little of that right now. Please."

Rey looked at Finn and Poe no doubt expressing herself. Finn shook his head, but Poe placed a hand over his mouth in deliberation.

"Lie low," Poe said finally. "We'll look into it. You have somewhere you can stay?"

There was a silence and they watched as Gunn became a sickening shade of white before he slid off his chair and collapsed onto the floor.

"Jesus."

Rey rushed towards the man, Finn and Poe stood up warily. Rey crouched beside him, going to check his pulse and hoping there wasn't a dead man on their office floor. Her eyes caught the red stain on his shirt. She pulled away the leather jacket to reveal the blood staining his shirt.

"Hey, guys? Guys, he's bleeding."

×

"We got a couple of questions, Rose."

Finn and Poe had decided to chase down the only lead they had got from Gunn, and they needed to corroborate his story. Rey had decided to stay with Gunn at the hospital, amke sure that he lied low and remained in the hospital to get the care he needed when he awoke. 

"If you're here to chase ambulances, you might notice there are none," Rose said grimly.

Yeah, no shit. There were bodies being wheeled off in every direction, bags with bloody hands and legs being tagged and carried off into a van. The entire scene outside was covered with cops to keep out civilians which had grouped around the area. Hell's Kitchen had never looked so grim in all its time.

"Any leads on what happened?" Finn asked, with a flirty smile. Poe looked at him with a raised brow and Finn shrugged.

"Oh, you wanna know what went down?" She asked in a sarcastically light voice. "Read about it in the papers like everybody else."

"We're not everybody else, Tico." Poe said.

She threw her hands up slightly and started to walk away. "You know I can't talk about an active crime scene."

"What if hypothetically speaking we may have recently acquired a new client that could help shed some light on this investigation?" Finn asked quickly.

She stopped in her tracks, narrowing her eyes as she turned back to face him. "How recent?"

"Farm fresh."

"Was he here?"

"Client privilege." Poe said matter-of-factly.

"Well, if that was true hypothetically speaking, I'd tell you that withholding your client from the NYPD would be obstructing governmental administration, and I'd probably just arrest your ass myself."

"In theory." Finn grinned.

"I guess we really can't help each other after all." She shrugged.

"I help you, you help me? That's all we want."

She looked around, untucking her necklace to hold it as she deliberated. "There's a total clampdown on any of this getting out to the press. I'd like to keep it that way."

"Rose, you can trust us. We're lawyers."

She looked at the crowd of people that were building up and then over at forensics. She tucked her necklace away and sighed. "Come with me over here. Come on." She pulled up the tape, letting them through before heading beside her car. "DA's going bat shit trying to figure it out. This isn't the first hit that matches this MO. Call it massive gang-on-gang overkill. Downtown office thinks we got new players in Hell's Kitchen, and whoever they are, we're talking some kind of paramilitary-type organization with the training, knowledge and hardware to take out half the city."

"What do they want?" Poe asked curiously.

"That's what's driving the DA nuts," Rose said in a hushed voice. "We don't know who they are. We just know who they're not."

"I'd say they're definitely not fond of the Irish," Finn said wryly. "This is worse than what happened to the Dogs of Hell."

"We got history," she said, digging a finger into Finn's shoulder. "So, I'll tell you as a friend, you stay out of this shit. If you got a witness, the smart move is to turn him over and walk away." She looked back over at the crowd that continued to grow. "Hell's Kitchen is about to explode."


	2. Brutum Fulmen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Early update so enjoy :)
> 
> socials  
> insta: @marvel._witch  
> twitter: @ap__marvel

“there are seeds of self-destruction in all of us that will bear only unhappiness if allowed to grow.” – _Dorothea Brande_

×××

Rey had been sitting in the hospital chair beside Gunn's hospital bed for a while now. She had checked him under a different name, saying that she was his sister. They had questions about his wounds, but she had easily slipped them lies to get them off of their case. If the people that had shot the Irish were out for Gunn's blood, they wouldn't find him here.

She fiddled with her hands, feeling unusually uncomfortable in the chair in the ward. It had been a long time since she had been in this position, and it seemed to bring it all back. All the rough edges of her past floating back up to the surface. She reprimanded herself for even thinking of it. But it was bringing itself back up. And before she could even think of leaving the room to get some air, Gunn shifted beneath the sheets.

He awoke with a start. Looking down at his arms and began agitatedly trying to unwrap himself from the sheets and the wires.

"No, wait.” Rey moved forward quickly, grabbing his hands before he could rip the IV out from his skin. “You're safe, you're okay," she said quickly. He stopped moving, listening to her. "The cut is deep, all right? Into the muscle, but there's no vessel damage. Nothing that a few weeks of physical therapy can't cure.” She took a breath, holding his fearful blue-eyed gaze. “You need to stay here."

He shook his head and started to move again, pushing her hands off of him. "That ain't happening," he said firmly with a growl.

"No. No, I'm here to help you."

"By hog-tying me to a hospital with a target on my ass?” Gunn drawled. “You wanna wait for a bullet through the window or pull the trigger myself?"

"You need to listen to me, _Steve_."

"No, you listen to me, you daft woman!"

"You can trust me!" He stopped abruptly at her raised voice. She took a breath. "Your name is Steve Schaffer, and I am your sister, Isabelle. You got into a bar fight defending me. And other than the beer that was wasted when that bottle sliced through you, you're fine."

He looked at her bewildered as though he had underestimated her abilities of thinking this through. And she took a heavy breath as she let go of him. His expression turned sour again in the silence.

"It's a nice story, doll." His tone was demeaning. "You gotta run home now. You ain't got the balls for what's coming."

Her eyes turned dark and her voice was ice-cold. Her knuckles turned white as she gripped onto the sheets and she pulled them over him. "Slide into bed, _brother_ , and settle in. I've got it handled."

Gunn looked at her. Something in his expression telling her that he hadn't expected her to turn so cold. Not many had been on the receiving end of it. It wasn't something she liked about herself, but years of surviving on her own meant having thick skin to bear it all. And oh, had she bore it all.

He slowly slid back down in the bed, removing his hands away from the IV. She removed her hands from the sheets and sat back down in her chair with a sigh. He gave the door of his ward one more scrutinizing look before closing his eyes and settling in.

It was going to be a long night.

×

  
The smell of blood, flash of headlights and then that feeling. That feeling of unease and restlessness awoke within her. The sound of sirens followed every image. Her lungs crushing, feeling her last breath leave her…

She opened her eyes, her elbow almost slipping from the edge of the armrest as she shifted. Her neck ached from sleeping in such an awkward position and she didn’t know how long she was out. Her eyes looked over the room, realising that she had fallen back into the depths of the past.

When her nightmares followed her, they dissipated in her wake. But as she blinked back her tears, she could only feel that discomfort grow. But it was different. She couldn’t explain it, it was almost like she could feel a black cloud over her head, but it wasn’t hers.

A clatter.

Her eyes darted towards the door.

There was another sound outside the ward, this time it was the sound of raised voices.

_"Hold it right there!"_

There was a thump of a body hitting the ground.

She shot up out of her seat. Any tiredness she had felt moments ago had dissipated. Now she only felt the clutch of fear pulling her towards the door. Rey opened the door slightly, looking out towards the hallway. Doctors, nurses and patients running from an unseen threat.

What was going on?

A black clothed, hooded figure turned the corner into their hallway. Dark hair and dark eyes with a murderous expression as he stalked towards them. A large gun in his hands.

"Shit."

She closed the door and turned around to see Gunn awake.

"No, no, no, no, no, no, no."

Gunn started to panic, his eyes flitting everywhere and his breath much too loud to be normal. She ripped the IV off of Gunn, pulling him out of his bed, grabbing her purse as she headed towards the door.

"Someone's come to finish the job!" He yelled at her as they ran.

She held onto his gown as she dragged him through the hallway, his steps lagging and uneven from sleep and the painkillers. Her head was low as she ran, her mind ringing alarms. This felt all too familiar. She looked back for a moment to see the figure load up his gun, a shotgun, aimed at them. She turned the corner, just before the bullets ripped apart an opened door.

"Fuck!"

She ran, feeling Gunn breathless beside her as they turned another corner. A closed off office room separating them, but there was frosted glass and he could see them. Another metal click of the gun being reloadd before they were showered with glass shards.

They ran down another hallway. It seemed endless now, like a maze they couldn't escape. A green sign, boldly exclaiming EXIT. She wanted to let out a breath of relief but there was another spray of bullets. She grabbed onto Gunn as she rang the fire alarm beside the exit before pushing Gunn through and following immediately.

They almost tripped over their feet as they climbed down the stairs. A scream on her lips as bullets whipped past her ear, piercing into the brick wall behind her. They got out as quickly as they could, no sounds of heavy footsteps following them down as they ran out into the road.

She got outside, rummaging through her purse furiously. "Come on, come on, come on! Come on!"

"You don't have the right keys?!" Gunn practically screamed.

"Shut up. Shut up!" She screamed back.

She was desperately on the verge of breaking down in that moment. Her fingers caught the jagged metal of the keys, she pulled them out and quickly shoved them into the slot. She unlocked the car and got inside in a flurry.

"Get in!"

Rey started up the car, her hands already turning the wheel as she stomped on the gas just at Gunn got inside. They sped down the road, cars beeping at her as she drove. She glanced over at Gunn, seeing the red stain on his hospital gown.

"You're bleeding - "

The sideview mirror on her car was shot off. Another shot. The back window shattered, spattering glass over them as they drove.

She screamed, throwing her head down as she recklessly drove. Gunn was so low down he could practically kiss the floor. She stepped down harder on the gas, her back shooting up against her seat as the car bolted forward.

Rey didn’t want to die. And she was terrified that the next bullet would be in her.

×

She was inside a small office of the NYPD precinct. Her hands were shaking when she gave her statement and they didn’t stop when she received medical attention for the glass shards that had found their way into her. Gunn was completely silent when they stitched up his reopened wound. Her hands only stopped trembling when they had given her the paperwork for Gunn to complete as they waited for Finn, Poe and someone to negotiate Witness Protection with them. Needless to say, she was still terrified. But she had to hold it together, like she always had to. There wasn't time to cry or be scared - there was too much that needed to be done.

"Where the hell are your boys?" Gunn asked frustratedly.

"On their way," she said calmly. "Place of birth?"

"Queens."

She wrote it down.

"Relatives? Anyone we should place into Witness Protection with you?"

"No." She looked up at him at his answer. "I got no one."

She knew what that felt like. Rey gave him an empathetic look before writing it down. The sound of her scribbling was interrupted by his voice.

"You don't seem rattled,” Gunn said accusingly. “A guy tries to blow your head off, you ain't scared?"

She set down the pen, looking at him with tired eyes. "I'm terrified."

Finn opened the door into the interrogation room, rushing forward to hug her. She barely processed it as she stood up to hug him back, glancing at Poe over his shoulder, who gave her a worried look.

"Are you okay?" Poe asked quietly.

"Yeah," she reassured. Pulling herself out of the hug to sit down again. "I'm okay."

Finn and Poe took their seats around the desk, facing Gunn.

"You told us the Irish were attacked by a whole gang of guys. I'm pretty sure the word you used was "army." You want to tell me why I'm now hearing this is all being done by one man?"

"Look, I didn't know you guys were - "

"Who does he work for?" Finn interrupted.

"I got no idea!"

Finn looked at him incredulously. "What _do_ you know?"

"I know he's a sociopath, that's what. I mean, yeah, fine I heard the rumors, okay, but I didn't think… I thought it was ridiculous, okay? Ten, twenty guys could be mowed down at a time. And with precision? You know, tactically. Every hit was like some kind of SEAL Team six. Then people started saying it was one guy doing all that. One man? I thought it was a ghost story. Some campfire shit you tell freshies to make 'em crap their pants. But now..." He looked towards Rey with a shiver. "You saw. That guy was the Grim Reaper."

The door opened suddenly. Rey jumped in her seat and Poe noticed. She looked up and realised that it was Rose Tico in her iron-pressed uniform stepped inside holding a folded orange jumpsuit. Not _him_.

"Mr. Gunn, I'm Sergeant Tico. Got some clothes here for you." She extended them towards him.

He looked nervously at Finn and Poe. "What? Am I arrested?"

"Just protective custody until we can figure out WITSEC," Rose explained.

"Why the peel?"

"You wanna stay in the gown with your ass hanging out?" Rose offered bluntly. Gunn muttered something under his breath before taking the clothes from her. She turned to Finn and Poe. "We pulled the security footage from the hospital. I've got ten men going over it right now."

"Any leads?" Rey asked.

"I was hoping you had something." She looked to Rey hopefully and sighed when Rey said nothing. She motioned for them to leave the room. "You three want to step outside with me for a sec?"

They shuffled out of the room, leaving Gunn to change. Rose shut the door behind them and walked them out towards the office area.

Poe looked towards Rey, placing a light hand on her forearm. “You sure you’re okay Rey?”

“Yeah.” She saw his disbelief and forced a smile. “Really, I’m okay. Thanks.”

He nodded and dropped the subject.

Rose stopped near the entryway of the precinct, turning to face them and folding her arms. "The DA's office is sending someone over to talk you through Witness Protection options."

Poe raised his brows. "Today?"

"Yeah, right now. And listen, take whatever deal they offer, okay? You don't wanna mess with this psycho."

"So you do have a lead," Finn said.

Rose clenched her jaw before sighing. Her hand on her necklace. "I ever tell you what Paige used to say?" Finn shook his head. "Gotta treat witnesses like mushrooms. Feed them shit and keep them in the dark.” She nodded towards the interrogation room. “That guy's on a need to know."

"So fill us in. Who's bankrolling this guy? Who does he work for?"

"The DA's office says the shooter's independent. Vigilante type, targeting different crime families. This guy? He gets the streets bloody."

"Holy shit."

"Yeah. Makes everybody stop and think twice about the whole "hero" proposition on these vigilantes."

"What do you think?" Poe asked.

She shifted the weight between her feet, looking over at her colleagues around the precinct. "The whole force is split. Some cops want him off the street, others think he's making our jobs a whole lot easier taking out the Irish. But if you ask me, it's only a matter of time before the wrong person gets caught in the crossfire." She shot a glance at Rey at those last words. She placed a gentle hand on Finn's arm. "Take whatever they offer."

He nodded at her, his expression softening at her gesture. She gave one last nod to them before walking off. Finn cleared his throat and looked ahead, ignoring the pointed looks Poe and Rey shot him. He glanced at them nervously and then shook his head when he saw Rey and Poe sharing a look with hidden smiles.

He looked past them and suddenly his expression turned dark. "Shit, it's not an assistant, it's the actual DA."

Rey turned around, spotting the District Attorney. "That's Phasma?"

Phasma was a tall, pale woman, her short hair pinned perfectly back. She walked towards them in her perfectly ironed suit, beside her was the Assistant Disctrict Attorney, Pauldron. A small man who wasn't nearly as stern, but still walked with his head held high as he trailed behind Phasma with a briefcase.

"In all her defense-attorney-destroying glory," Poe answered in a sullen tone.

Phasma walked up to them and gave them a belittling look, turning to Pauldron. "Are they the ones that brought in Gunn?"

"Poe Dameron, of Dameron and Walker,” he greeted before gesturing to Rey and Finn. “These are my associates, Finn Walker and Rey Johnson."

She barely gave him a second glance as she turned to one of the cops nearby. "Officers, I want you to prepare Mr. Gunn for transport."

"Excuse me, but, transport where, exactly?" Poe asked again.

"Once he's in our custody, I want you to personally handle all the arrangements," she said to Pauldron and he nodded.

"Just to put it out there, our client's already given us a list of his conditions," Finn said pointedly.

Phasma's attention finally landed on them. "Mr. Walker, have you ever negotiated a witness protection agreement?” Her cruel eyes turned to Poe. “Have you, Mr. Dameron?"

"Well I can attest that we're all very fast learners."

"The District Attorney appreciates your efforts, but our office will be handling the case from here."

Rey scoffed, stepping towards Phasma. "Excuse me. Gunn is our client."

Phasma leaned down menacingly. "And it would be in Mr. Gunn's _best_ interest for you to recuse yourselves so he can bring in a legal team with more expertise."

Poe shook his head and scoffed. "You mean someone you can push around."

"I'll say this once. If your firm doesn't collapse under the weight of the chickens and the fruit baskets you've been collecting from your indigent clientele, there will come a time when you need to ask a favor of the District Attorney's office. And depending on how this situation resolves, that favor will either be forthcoming or permanently withheld. Am I making myself clear?"

"Of course."

"Now if we're through?" Phasma smiled. There was nothing warm about it.

"I'm sorry." Poe cleared his throat. "About that favor, you wouldn't happen to have the number for the U.S. Attorney's office?" He pulled out his phone. "Oh, never mind, I got it." He pressed a few buttons and put it to his ear. "Yes, U.S. Department of Justice Office of Enforcement Operations."

"What the hell are you doing?" Phasma hissed.

"Zealously protecting our client's rights. Local DA's don't have jurisdiction over the witness protection program. That's solely determined by the U.S. Attorney's office, a.k.a. the Feds, who are probably just as douchey as you are, but at least they can deliver on their promises and their threats. Since this really isn't working out between us, maybe I should just deal with them directly. Kudos, by the way.” He pointed around the precinct with his phone. “The cell service in here is awesome."

She stepped towards him. "Hang up."

_"Attorney General's office."_

"One second." He held up a finger to her. "Yes, hi. This is Poe Dameron."

_"Spell it."_

"D-A-M-E-R-O-N."

"Hang up." She said in a more pressed tone. He gave her a smug look, before hanging up. "What do you want?"

"As I see it, the District Attorney's office would like to receive credit for any arrests that arise from Mr. Gunn's testimony. And our client, on the other hand, could definitely use the enthusiastic endorsement of the New York DA when entering in his witpro agreement. In either case, he'll be requiring legal representation, which will be provided by the law firm of Dameron and Walker."

"To put it in layman's terms. Cut the shit, lady. You're dealing with us," Finn concluded.

She pressed her lips into a stern line, shooting them a glare. "Let's find out if their low-life client is even worth it."

She walked away, with Pauldron trailing behind her.

Rey looked at them incredulously. "That was... Amazing."


	3. Corruptio Optimi Pessima

“a single lie discovered is enough to create doubt in every truth expressed.” – Farrah Gray

×××

Gunn rested his hairy forearms on the metal table, the orange jumpsuit was neon in contrast to the bland suits surrounding him. "I'll keep it simple. Give me a deal, put up a camera, I'll tell you everything about those Irish pricks. Names, dates, their favorite bars – "

"That's not good enough," Phasma interrupted sternly.

Rey looked at Phasma with furrowed brows, irritated at her dismissive tone. "That's what he's got."

Phasma seemed to Pick up on Rey’s mood and turned her sharp eyes on her. "Most of Mr. Gunn's mob friends are either dead or fleeing the country.” She turned back to Gunn. “If you want this office's endorsement, you'll have to give us someone who's still breathing."

"So how does my client manage that?" Poe asked.

"We would like Mr. Gunn to wear a wire to meet one of his old associates.” Pauldron handed her a file, which she flipped through. “Our files show your organization has had dealings with one Edgar Brass."

"Brass." Gunn turned pale, looking at her astoundedly. "You're out of your goddamn mind!"

"Gunn, calm down," Rey said quietly.

“No, this lady is crazy if she thinks I’m going after Brass!”

“Gunn,” Rey said again, more sharply this time. She looked towards Poe who nodded and turned to Phasma.

"We need a second with our client."

She sighed with raised brows. "Fine."

They got up and all grouped in the corner. They had their eyes on Gunn, curious to know who this associate of his was and more importantly, why it had him shaken up.

"Who's Edgar Brass?" Finn asked, folding his arms.

"Drug-dealing butcher who's worse by a mile.” Gunn darted his eyes between them anxiously. “They send me after him, I'm as good as dead."

"I get it," Finn said. Gunn gave him a blank look to tell him he didn't. "I do, but chances are, the Feds are gonna ask for the same thing."

Gunn looked around them, staring at Rey with hope. But she only nodded in agreement with Finn. He gave something of a resigned sigh, realising his limited options. He sat back down. Any confidence he had of getting an easy deal had disappeared. They took their places back around the table, ready to negotiate.

"Why Gunn?" Finn asked.

"Because we know your client has worked with Brass before,” Pauldron said. “You got an in. If he could get Brass to talk, he would be instrumental in taking down a major drug ring."

"If I don't?" Gunn asked.

Phasma’s turned light. "Then you're free to walk away." She gestured to Pauldron and he handed her a thick manila folder. She dumped its contents on to the table. The photos spread out in front of Gunn. "But don't expect to get very far."

"Oh God," Rey whispered. Horrified by what she was seeing.

Rey covered her mouth with her hand. Photo after photo, blood and bones. Twisted bodies, faces ripped apart with bullets and barely an inch of skin that was untouched. This is what Gunn was up against – what they were up against. And she had almost been caught in the fire.

Goosebumps broke through her skin and a shiver running through her spine. The image of that dark figure running through her mind.

"What the hell is that?" Gunn asked, horrified.

Pauldron looked at him with his dark eyes. "You could call it "work product." Morgue reports generated by the shooter who attacked you in the hospital."

Poe swallowed, pushing the photos over each other. It seemed endless. "And all of these people were, were killed by the same man?"

"He's tracking gangs to their home turf and taking them out with military precision. He’s already started to hit the Dogs of Hell and the Cartel. But it doesn't stop there."

"What do you mean, "doesn't stop"?"

"His targets aren't random, Mr. Gunn. He knows exactly who he wants to hit. And if any of his intended marks are lucky enough to escape... Say they're off buying a sandwich, or in bed with the flu." She glanced over at Rey and then back to Gunn. "Recuperating under an assumed name at Metro-General. Sooner or later, he gets to them, too."

"Jesus Christ," he whispered shakily.

"My office is offering you a chance to save yourself. Whether you take it, is up to you. And your, _legal team_."

"And the police have no idea who's doing this?" Rey asked with furrowed brows.

"It's an ongoing investigation." Pauldron said. "But our intelligence people are close to completing a profile. Even got a code name. Kylo Ren."

The name echoed through Rey’s mind. A dark cloud erupting within her as the sound of gunfire rang through her mind again, the images in front of her searing into her brain.

Kylo Ren was after them. And he wasn’t going to stop.

×

"It's showtime."

If Phasma had a cheery tone, this was as close as it got.

All Gunn had to do was meet up with Brass, get him talking and make the deal while wearing a wire. The entire area had been set up, cameras and monitors connecting them all inside a van not far from the setup. Finn, Poe and Rey were all nervously standing, watching Gunn walking into the area through the monitors.

 _"Target's inside the perimeter."_ The voice was from the ground unit.

"Target?" Finn asked agitatedly.

"Only an expression, Walker." She turned back to the monitor. "Stay with him."

" _Yo, Brass! It's me, Gunn. Cut the spook act and say something already!_ ” There was a long silence. “ _You don't wanna deal, fine! Find someone else stupid enough to buy H off you!_ " He was walking through the dark area, surrounded by large metal storage containers. The man, Brass, grabbed him and took him into a storage container. _"Good one, asshole. Let's get this done. I got places I gotta be tonight."_

"We lost visual. And sound. I can't hear him anymore." A technician looked towards Phasma, awaiting orders.

Rey narrowed her eyes, turning to Phasma.

She waved her hand. "Probably just interference from the metal in the shipping crate."

"Most likely, ma'am. We'll, uh, try adjusting the gain on it."

_"Package is delivered."_

Rey felt something of discomfort settle inside her. It started to build up… She knew this feeling, all too well. It was that same black cloud she had felt before Kylo Ren had showed up.

Something bad was going to happen.

"What do you mean “package is delivered”?" Rey asked in a low tone.

_"Charlie one is now set. Over."_

Phasma ignored the question. "Roger that, Charlie one. Overwatch positions, check in by the numbers."

"What exactly is an "overwatch position"?" Rey continued.

Phasma gave her a hard glare. "Let the police do their job."

_"Charlie three is set."_

"Clear fields of fire in sectors one and five. Over."

_"Charlie four is set."_

"Clear "fields of fire" doesn't sound like cop talk to me. That sounds like you're planning an ambush," Poe said accusingly. Phasma didn't respond, but the expression on her face gave it away. It was an ambush. "You're using our client as bait for Kylo Ren?"

"Probably the first useful thing your client's ever done in his life," Phasma shot back.

"Oh, we're gonna have so much fun suing you. Whatever it is that you have planned here for tonight, it ends now,” Finn said, pulling Poe away from Phasma and heading towards the door.

That sickening feel increased inside her.

Rey stepped towards Phasma threateningly, her voice venomous as she hissed, “Get Gunn out. Now.”

 _"We have a situation taking place on Tac channel one, ma'am! Target is inbound. Repeat, target is inbound!"_ The agent reported back urgently, the sound of bullets interfering with his words.

Kylo Ren was here.

Phasma got out of her chair, slamming her fist onto the table. "Take him out!"

 _"Hold your fire!”_ There was silence as the gunfire stopped. _“Move in! Hands in the air! Now!"_ They moved closer, seeing it was a crying man. Bound and gagged. _"Shit. It's not him, it's a diversion. Target's still out there! The bastard knew it was a trap."_

They were glued to the monitor. They saw the figure of Gunn running, the trail of bullets ricocheting off the ground as he did.

Rey headed towards the door. "Gunn's getting away. We have to go get him."

"No, you can't go out there." Poe held her back, looking at her like she had gone mad. "This place is about to become a war zone!"

"And he's in the middle of it!" Rey shot back.

"I know, but the safest place to be is in this room right now." His voice was softer, and his grip was still on her as she stood there staring at him.

There was a blistering screech that ripped through the microphones. She looked towards the technicians, pulling herself from Poe’s grip. "What the hell was that?"

"Status report. What's going on out there?"

_"We do... repeat, we do not... a clean target."_

"You know what to do. Take the shot! Ten-four." Phasma said desperately. There was static again. "Take the shot. Repeat, take the shot!"

There was a long silence in the van, only the sound of static filling the tension.

_"He's... Repeat, he's gone."_

"Shit!" She shoved the monitor aside with force.

Finn pointed a finger at her, his words cutting through the air like knives. "You used our client for bait!" 

"That's a pretty big allegation," she snarled.

"Allegation?” Poe interrupted. “Look around! This was a shit show!” He pointed towards the monitor. “He could have died."

Phasma took a breath before facing them with a cruel expression. "Let's be real honest here. No bullshit.” She took a step towards Poe, her eyes locking with his. “Your firm is small-time. Right now, you are way out of your league. It won't take much to sell that you're the ones that compromised this operation."

"What?"

"Say that story goes public. The story that your incompetence endangered the life of your client, neighbourhood civilians, and the brave officers of the NYPD."

"You're saying that you would blame us for this?" Rey asked incredulously.

"I never said that." She turned to Pauldron. "Did I say that?"

"I didn't hear it."

Phasma turned back to the three of them. "Stay away from this case. This is your last warning."


	4. Veritas Curat

“very few of us are what we seem.” – _Agatha Christie_

×××

Rey had just gotten into the office, to pick up some files, when the phone rang. She walked over to her desk, picking it up and bringing it to her ear.

"Dameron and Walker."

" _What the hell was that?_ " The familiar voice asked gruffly.

"Gunn? Gunn, where are you?" She asked worriedly. Her insides flooded with relief at the fact that he was alive, but still guilt-ridden with how it all had gone down.

" _Like I'd tell you shit after what went down._ "

She ignored his growls. "Are you hurt?"

He sighed from the other end. " _Forget all that._ "

Rey felt herself get worked up as she began to explain. "Look, you have to believe me, we had no idea what Phasma was planning – "

" _Shut up!"_ Rey bit back her words. _"Goddamn lawyers, you're all alike. Running your mouths, all that fancy talk. All the time you're just sticking it to guys like me. You made promises, lady! You broke every one of ‘em._ "

She swallowed back the guilt. "I know. I'm sorry.” She took a breath. “Listen, Gunn, the police are coming after you." She shook her head, pacing as she braced herself for his response to what she was going to say next. But it was the only viable option. "You have to come in."

He gave a strangled laugh. " _All that shooting, it was it was 'cause of him, wasn't it? The psycho from the hospital?_ "

She wet her dried lips, her voice barely a whisper. "Yeah."

" _Shit... Shit!_ " There was a clatter in the background. Gunn was silent for a moment before he answered again. His voice more shaky. " _He's never gonna stop._ "

"Look, the DA knows she screwed up. We can go back to her," Rey said quickly. "We can lock in witness protection."

" _Oh, I'm done making deals, sweetheart. I've got my own plan now. Gettin' outta this hellhole while I'm still breathing._ " She could tell that there was no debating him at this point. " _You tell those lawyers of yours, they can kiss my ass._ "

He hung up.

×

Gunn’s words were still on her mind as she stepped onto the elevator, nodding awkwardly at a stern old man who only huffed as he stepped out. She pressed the button, shifting her weight between her feet as she waited for the doors to open. She stepped out, looking both ways before finding the right direction to go. When she found the office, she peered inside the opened door to see Pauldron hunched over his work. A small office for an ADA, and a badly lit one at that too.

God, she hoped she was right about all this.

She cleared her throat.

Pauldron looked up from his paperwork. "What are you doing here?"

She took that as a sign to come in. "Protecting our client, who is still out there. Alone."

He gave a half-laugh. "You're talking about him like he's a lost puppy, Miss Johnson. Mr. Gunn is a convicted criminal, and lucky we gave him the time of day. I'd forget about him if I were you."

Rey folded her arms, stepping closer until she was stood in front of his desk. "We promised to protect him."

"Maybe you shouldn't have."

"Your boss said she could take down a firm like ours pretty quickly."

"She wasn't lying," he said seriously.

"Huh... So, she could also take down someone like you?" She reveled in the confused look on his face as she ruffled through her purse and pulled out a file. "ADA Elliot James. Took the fall after Phasma mishandled informants in the, uh, Teller case about a year ago.” She went down to the next name on the list. “Nicole Kent got booted from your office after she failed to quiet the EnSynth scandal. Chris Davison, fired after the State Supreme Court, disqualified your entire office from the Pell case due to "widespread misconduct." But not everyone got fired." She stood in front of his desk and dropped the file in front of him. "See, Phasma walked out in one piece. She's good at throwing people to the wolves.” She shrugged. “So, sure, she can take down Dameron and Walker this month… But how long before you’re getting pulled into the shit with the rest of us?”

"You trying to scare me?" He scoffed.

"I am here to show you that you and Phasma are not on the same team."

He looked up at her curiously. "Where did you even find this shit?"

"I have my sources." She knew the head editor, Maz, at the New York Bulletin. "I want protection for Dameron and Walker. We're small. We can't survive getting thrown to the wolves. Not without your help. After what happened today, someone's gonna crash and burn and I need to know that that won't be us."

"What makes you think I can help you, even if I wanted to?"

"You have information on Kylo Ren."

He shook his head. "That's classified."

"Do I look like I'm gonna post it?" She looked at him like he was being ridiculous. "Your boss is threatening to disbar my friends and dismantle our law firm."

"Yeah, my boss is a piece of work," he sighed. "Look, how will the Kylo Ren files, assuming they even exist, help you stop that from happening?"

"I'll let you know."

"Unbelievable. So, you expect me to implicate the DA on purpose?" He got up, stepping closer towards her. "Listen very carefully. You cannot come into my office, asking me to betray my boss, throwing around allegations about this department you cannot substantiate. So, I'm going downstairs to get security. And you will not contact me again. No emails. No phone calls. Nothing." He handed her the Kylo Ren files wordlessly and walked out the door. He paused slightly, giving her a reassuring nod. "Good night, Miss Johnson."

×

Finn and Poe walked into the office with widened eyes.

Rey had everything on Kylo Ren file spread out on the floor. Post-it notes with her bare legible scribbles on crime scene photos, medical documents and police reports on all the victims and a profile on Kylo Ren himself. There were things she had found that she needed to follow up, needed answers to that she wouldn't find in this file.

"Rey?" Poe called gently.

She looked up at them with a grim smile. Their expressions reflected her own, although they didn't seem to be taking it as lightly as her. Finn looked like he was going to pass out or throw up.

"This is all of the stuff that the DA's collecting for her case," she explained, as she stood up picking something up. "Most of it's about Kylo Ren's victims. The Dogs of Hell, the cartel..." She trailed off at the sight of their solemn expressions.

"Rey, Gunn's dead."

"W-what? How?"

"Rose said they found him with the rest of the Dogs of Hell. Another Kylo Ren hit."

"Why was he with the Dogs of Hell?"

"We don't know," Poe said. "They think Kylo Ren led him there."

She looked at them confusedly, as though trying to digest it all. She ran a hand over her head, her fingers threading through her hair as she took it in. "Sorry, I..."

"It's okay. We get it."

"You wanted to show us something?" Poe asked gently.

She took a moment before she cleared her throat and showed them the x-ray she had found among the array of documents. "This was in the middle of the files. Not someone he shot. Him."

The x-ray was of a skull. At first glance it had looked like any other x-ray, and she had almost disregarded it as one of the victims but then she saw the bullet hole. The image was tagged as John Doe. This was Kylo Ren.

Finn frowned. "He's insane. Maybe he shot himself."

"I thought about that too, but at that close of a range..."

"He'd be dead already," Poe finished.

"Okay, not to go all tin-foil hat here, but Pauldron obviously slip this to me for a reason." Rey sighed frustratedly. "What if Kylo Ren isn't the worst of it? What if Phasma is trying to cover something up?"

Finn scrunched his face up in confusion. "You think that murderous psychopath isn't the worst of it?"

"No, I don't. And I think our best shot at protecting Dameron and Walker is to find him." It was unusual to go after a man that she had just found out killed another gang along with their client, but she needed answers. And where else could she go?

"It's our best shot at career suicide. Or just getting shot." Finn said with a frown.

"I hate to disagree with you Rey, but I think Finn's right on this."

×

Rey sipped her coffee as she sat in front of her desk. Poe was leaning against it, sipping his.

“Am I insane?” She asked.

He hummed in disagreement, quick to correct her. “Kylo Ren's a lunatic.” Rey said nothing, taking a long sip. “But you care anyway?”

“I wouldn't say that, it's more like curious.”

“How so?”

She set down her coffee. “In between these files and and Phasma's obsession and the fact that humans are a pretty complicated species to begin with, I just I feel like there's gotta be more to the story.”

“I think you’re…” He trailed off with a wince.

“Oh, my God, you think I'm insane.” Rey scoffed, placing her head into her hands.

He laughed, pulling her fingers away from her face. “I'm kidding. I was going to say compassionate.”

She hummed, unsure of whether it was something she should like.

“It's a good quality, Rey. Stuff of saints.”

She raised her brows and took up her coffee again. “Yeah, well, I'm no saint.”

He smiled.

Finn came out of his office, his phone in his hand. “Poe! We have real, live, non-criminal clients who need our help.”

Poe turned to her apologetically. “Excuse me for a second.”

Rey nodded. “Yeah.”

She sat there, staring at the Kylo Ren files on her desk as Finn spoke with Poe.

“Tell me.”

“Mr. DiPesta defaced the elevator in his building. Which, technically, makes him a criminal. That's what his slumlord, excuse me, landlord says, but he's got no AC, no hot water. This has Dameron and Walker written all over it. But we gotta file today.” He turned to the Rey’s desk, which was now empty. “Rey?”

Poe looked around. “Maybe she stepped out.”

“Did she take the files?” Finn asked.

“Huh?”

“From Phasma. The, the Kylo Ren files.”

Poe walked over to the desk, seeing the empty spot where they had been. “Oh, shit.”

  
×

Rey wasn’t ready to drop this. Maybe she was insane. Or maybe she wasn’t done chasing the crazy. Either way, she knew that there was something going on. From Pauldron handing over the files with Kylo Ren’s x-ray to the killings. This wasn’t just some vigilante trying to earn the Hell’s Kitchen’s favour. This was something else.

She stepped closer towards the janitor of the accounting firm. The one that she had found to be the nurse of the John Doe in the x-ray.

"Uh, Elliot Terix?" He turned around to face her, his face anxious as he took in her outfit. "The hospital told me I might find you here."

"Are you one of them?" Elliot asked apprehensively, dropping the cigarette from his hand.

Rey furrowed her brows and stepped closer. "Sorry, one of who?"

He started to step back, retreating. "Please, just leave me alone."

"No, wait – I'm not gonna do anything to you. If anything, I'd like to help you get your job back. Look, I need to understand why you were fired from Metro-General in the first place."

He looked at her confusedly, his tense figure relaxing as he stopped backing up. "Get – Get my job back?"

She pulled out the x-ray from the file in her purse and showed it to him. "You were with him, this John Doe, when this was taken?"

He took it from her hands and examined it, taking a long breath. "Yeah, I remember. That bullet tore through his head. Not many people survive that."

"Well, I'd like to know what you remember."

He sighed, taking out another cigarette and out it between his lips. He offered the pack to her, to which she shook her head. He shrugged and lit it, taking a long puff.

"Guy was a total vegetable. I guess that's why they decided he only needed one nurse."

"Any family or visitors?" Rey asked curiously.

"No.” Elliot took another puff and looked at her again. “I mean aside from the suits."

"Suits?"

"Yeah. Uh, sometimes men, sometimes women. You can tell 'cause they all wear the same earpieces. That and the black suits." He glanced over her outfit warily again. "Kinda like you."

She looked over her black pencil skirt and black trenchcoat before looking back at him. "Got any idea who these suits were?"

"No. Uh, but they had their run of the place and they were the ones that pushed for the, uh, the DNR."

She furrowed her brows in thought. "A "do not resuscitate"?"

"Yeah. They had the paperwork," Elliot explained. "And I was there when the doctor pulled the plug."

"Wait." Rey pointed a finger at the x-ray again, reiterating what she thought he was trying to say. "You're saying that this guy died?"

"Yeah, for about a minute. It's crazy, but they say it happens sometimes. You know, one minute, flatline, then boom. His heart starts back up again. On its own. He just didn't wanna die." She bit the inside of her cheek; this case was becoming an enigma. "Within ten minutes of being awake he reaches up and grabs my scrubs, yanks me down, and says, real close "Take me home."” Elliot looked away ashamedly, shivering against the cold. “I shouldn't have done it. I shouldn't have done it. I should've known it'd get me fired."

She tapped her foot as her mind rushed through a million thoughts.

"Do you have an address?"


	5. In Absentia Lucis Tenebrae Vincunt

“there’s nothing more intimate in life than simply being understood and understanding someone else.” – _Brad Meltzer_

×××

Rey broke into the house easily. The years of practice had never left her and she hated it. It brought back memories and opened up the door to her past – the one she had kept quite firmly shut since she came to New York.

A draft swept into the eerily silent suburban house. As though it had sensed her foreign presence and was warning her of what was to come.

Rey swallowed back her anxious thoughts as she knelt down to the stack of mail at her feet. Using her free gloved hand to rifle through it as the other held her phone to direct light. Leia Organa, Han Solo and Ben Solo.

Headlights flashed and Rey let out a small gasp as she pressed herself against the wall, covering the flash of her phone with her hand. When it passed, she let out a breath and resumed her search, her flashlight guiding the way.

She glanced around the hallway. Her eyes catching the beautifully framed photographs with their small captions beneath. She walked down the hall, passing dozens of them. Family photos of his mother, Leia Organa and his father, Han Solo, and him. Kylo Ren. No, no.

This was Ben Solo.

She watched as he grew up, childhood photographs of him with short hair and ears too big, riding the carousel at the park to him being taller than his parents. He must’ve been fifteen or so, but she could see there was something much different in those photographs.

He wasn’t smiling anymore. His eyes were darker and there was something unsettling about them. It was like… It was like she could feel his pain. His loneliness. Despite the amount of people in the photograph with him and their smiles. She couldn’t understand.

She pulled her eyes away, feeling a disgusting amount of self-pity. He had something she had wanted her whole life. He wasn’t abandoned or left in the hands of a cruel man that never cared. He had a family. A home. People who looked like they cared – like they loved him.

Was this the moment he had become Kylo Ren?

She headed up the stairs. When she reached the landing, she saw three bedrooms. She pushed open the door to one of them, the master bedroom. It was tidy on one half, messy on the other. Clothes strewn over the bed and folded neatly on the other side. She could see a dressing table with makeup ordered in a glass holder, a hairbrush with greying strands looped around it.

She walked out; her breath heavy as she shut the door closed tightly behind her.

Rey composed herself, reminding herself of why she was here. It wasn’t here to take the memories of their presence or mourn people she didn’t know. She was here to find information and leave.

She looked into the next room. It was a guest room. She moved to the final door, still slightly ajar. Her eye caught the marks on the doorway. His height, it started from her knee and it stopped abruptly around her height.

She went inside. The entire room was bare except for a simple bed and a small dresser that stood beside it. There was barely anything useful inside, just simple black sweaters and jeans. It looked as unslept in as the guest room. The only thing that showed it had an owner were the polished boots that were sitting at the end of the bed.

She went back down and headed into the living room, her eyes catching the display above the mantelpiece. Framed medals, framed certificates and framed photographs of a Marine, Lieutenant Ben Solo. He was a Marine. A highly decorated one at that too. In the centre of it all, there was a photo of him dressed in his uniform and shaking the hand of the Secretary as he was awarded the Navy Cross.

Ben Solo wasn’t just a Marine. He was a war hero.

She picked up one of the frames on the mantelpiece.

This wasn’t the face of the man she had seen in the hospital. He was younger here, before the Navy Cross, and there was something of a smile tugging on his lips and pride behind his eyes. He stood tall; shoulders wide as ever, buzzed cut hair and dressed in his camouflage uniform. He had his arms wrapped over the shoulders of other Marines who were laughing. But most of all, he looked happy – it felt happy.

She stepped back, realising that it no longer felt right. Intruding in this home, seeing all of this. _Seeing_ _him_.

She turned on her heel to leave but stopped at the small coffee table that sat in the corner. A large vase of dead, dried out flowers. She leaned closer, seeing the card that still sat on it.

_I forgot what home was. But I know now, and I’m here to stay._

_Love, Ben._

She looked to the photograph that sat only, beneath it. A picture of the three of them, at the park with the same carousel in the back. It wasn’t old, but it wasn’t recent either. And she could see that same smile that he had when he was with those Marines, was there.

She didn’t know what came over her. Didn’t understand what possessed her to do it. But she slipped the photograph from the dark wood frame and put it into her purse. And then she headed for the door, holding back the tears that came with the sorrow of their home.

×

_"Ben Solo, the gunman wanted in connection with the Metro-General shooting and linked to dozens of recent gangland-related killings throughout Hell's Kitchen was apprehended just hours ago in Central Park. Tonight, New York has Sergeant Rose Tico of the fifteenth Precinct to thank."_


	6. Quodlibet Quod Necesse Est

“compassion is to look beyond your own pain, to see the pain of others.” – _Yasmin Mogahed_

×××

Rey opened the door with one hand while juggling the three coffees in her other hand. It seemed she had only come a few minutes later than them as she saw Poe and Finn putting down their briefcases down on their desks.

“Uh, good morning.”

“Hey, Rey.” Poe smiled. “Did you sleep well?”

She recalled her turning and tossing in her bed. Images of that house, his face haunting her.

“Uh, not so much. You?”

“Me? Yeah, sure.”

Finn popped his head out of his office. “Is that coffee I can smell?”

“Yes, it is.” She handed them each a cup. “It’s on me today.”

Finn took a long sip and then looked at her with grateful eyes. “I needed this, thank you.”

“You're a goddess,” Poe grinned.

Rey smiled at him and he held her gaze.

Finn laughed awkwardly. “Okay, you two.” Rey felt herself blush as she turned her focus to Finn. “Let's talk business. Potential clients. Real ones. With bank in the bank.”

Rey knew that what Finn was saying was important. Especially considering how Dameron and Walker were practically running on fumes. But she had something else on her mind.

“Actually, can we talk about these first?” She handed over The Bulletin newspaper to Finn. “The press is still painting Solo like he's nothing more than some deranged lunatic.”

Finn read over the headline before looking up at her with a frown. “Well, it's not like our boy was out collecting for the Red Cross.”

“I know. I know, but – ”

“You think there's more to the story,” Poe interrupted.

“Exactly.” She noticed the glance that was exchanged between Finn and Poe. “Guys, I mean, five different papers and not a word about the bullet he took to the brain, or his military record, or his family?”

“Uh, his family?” Finn asked dumbly.

“Okay, I might have found something.” She dug into her purse. “I found this photograph. It's of him and his parents at the park.”

She held it out for them to see. Watching silently as they took the image in.

Poe’s voice became suspicious. “You found it where?

“I sort of broke into his house.”

Finn choked; his eyes wide as they bore into her. “You did what?!”

Poe looked disappointed but mostly worried. “What were you thinking Rey?”

She held up a hand. “It was… Ill-advised, I know.” She tucked the photograph back into her purse carefully.

“Not to mention dangerous.”

“And illegal.”

Rey stammered before sighing. “Yeah It's all that. And I don't need a lecture or I will take those coffees back, okay?” Finn hugged his coffee closer and Poe sighed resignedly. “Thank you. Look, it's not just about the press. The DA's office released their statement and it's full of holes, too. Something big is going on here, guys, and it all circles back to Ben Solo.”

“Oh, no, no, no – ”

“Finn,” Rey interrupted.

“No, come on,” Finn whined. “We successfully dodged a metaphorical bullet and quite a few literal ones. We need to be done with the crazy, guys.” He looked between Rey and Poe; his tone weary. “We need normal.”  
  


  
×

Rey wasn’t ready for normal. Not yet.

She had been waiting for a while now. Things were busy at the New York Bulletin, a newspaper company in Hell's Kitchen. She was here to see the head editor, Maz, who she'd known for a while. They had made acquaintances when Rey had first moved here and seen her as some sort of grandmotherly figure.

She was the only person besides herself, who knew of her past. It was difficult to talk about, and not something she tended to ponder on. But it seemed to be the thing that made her truly vulnerable to her.

Maz came out from the conference room, sipping on her coffee as she walked towards Rey. "What can I do for you, child?"

"Well, I don't think you're gonna like my answer... I'd like to talk to you about the Ben Solo article. It's inaccurate."

Maz narrowed her eyes. "That article was corroborated by multiple sources. NYPD, DA's office, we even had some eyewitnesses."

"Yes," Rey corrected herself. "Everything that you reported is correct. It's what you haven't reported that bothers me. The article is inaccurate by omission."

Maz only continued to look at her, waiting for an explanation.

Rey licked her lips and let out a breath. "Right, did you know that two years ago, Lieutenant Ben Solo was awarded the Navy Cross for his service in Afghanistan, right? That's second only to the Medal of Honor. This guy is a _war hero_."

"Military history is the first thing we search whenever there's a mass shooting. We know he was a Marine recruit, and we know he went in, but there's no evidence he served."

"I've seen the medal, engraved with Solo's name, next to a photograph of him shaking the secretary's hand."

Maz touched Rey's arm, stepping forward to ask in a low voice, "Are you suggesting that his work was classified?"

"I don't know, but I would assume."

"Don't assume. Where'd you see it?"

"Uh, not important."

She couldn't exactly tell Maz that she had illegally broken into a deceased woman's house to collect information.

"I'd say it's important."

Rey sighed. "Look, your article also states that he had no known relatives, but every paper in New York says that."

"Well, that was in the press briefing issued by the DA's office."

"He had a family. He had a mother, Leia Organa and a father, Han Solo. Both dead. Killed around the same time that Solo was hospitalized for a gunshot wound to the head."

"You're saying that he murdered his family and then shot himself?” Maz furrowed her brows in thought. “A PTSD murder-suicide attempt?"

"No, see, if that's what had happened, the DA would have put it in her brief, in flashing neon if she could, because that supports her story that he's a psychopath."

"So, what do you think really happened?" Maz asked.

"That's what I don't know yet. But if I could dig through your files or I could check into your back issues, maybe I could figure it out. And anything that I find, anything that I can prove…”

“The Bulletin gets the exclusive. Deal?"

Maz extended her hand and Rey shook it.

"Okay, deal." 

×

"Any luck?"

"Well, these are all the papers from the week that Solo was shot. I've been through each one of them three times, and there's not a single mention of Solo, his family... Not even a John Doe that matches. Just nothing."

"Well, you know, people are shot every day. It doesn't always make the paper." There was a pause. Maz snapped her fingers, Rey almost jumped from her seat. "Cleavered Cleavers."

Rey looked at her confusedly. "What's that?"

"Ah, just an old newspaper adage, right? If horror befalls a family you can paint as all-American, it makes the front page. So, if the Solos are not in this paper, it's because somebody wants to keep it quiet. When was the Solo family murdered?"

"April fourteenth. Well, I figure it's gotta be sometime that week, right?"

Maz quickly shuffled through some papers, pulling her glasses off onto her head as she carefully and very closely read through one. "Here. Gang-on-gang violence. No civilians were reported injured, so nobody cared. It took me a week to get this in the paper.” She snapped her fingers excitedly. “Here. Three gangs, Central Park, mid-day. They shot each other to the depths of hell. It was a total massacre. Mexican Cartel, Dogs of Hell –"

"Kitchen Irish," Rey finished for her. "Those were all the three that he gunned down.” Rey looked at Maz confusedly. “What do I do now?"

"Confirm it."

×

She had returned to the Dameron and Walker office the next day with much to think about. But when she had stepped in, she found someone had been awaiting her arrival with Finn. A lawyer. He said that he was here to go over her statement to the police and once they were done, she had to sign, and he would be on his way.

Poe hadn't arrived yet.

"So, um, Miss Johnson, I drew this up based on your official statement to the police, about the Metro-General shooting."

"You new to New York, Mr. Unic?" Finn asked.

"Born and raised," Unic said proudly.

"Is this your first case?"

"Second. I won my first. Domestic violence." He turned to Rey and added, "I believe in protecting women."

She gave a humorous glance to Finn before monotonously saying, "Thanks. From all of us." She turned back to her statement. "Uh, here, this says that Solo pursued me down the stairwell, but I went down, he went up. Also, I didn't escape on foot, I had a car. I know I told the NYPD about that. I was also not Solo's only target. That's just flat out wrong. What about Gunn?" Her voice turned into frustration and confusion. "Where did you get my statement?"

"Gunn." Unic ruffled through some sheets. "He's on the victim list. Ballistics matched him to one of the many guns connected to Ben Solo."

The office door creaked open. "Early start?" Poe asked as he sat down beside Rey.

"Poe, this is Tyson Uric,” Rey said. “He's the public defender assigned to the Solo case."

Uric smiled at Poe, shaking his hand. "I just dropped by to get Miss Johnson's signature on this statement. Once we've got that, we're all done."

"Well, with this meeting," Rey corrected.

Unic shook his head. "With this case."

"How so?" Poe said confusedly.

"Solo's awake. Soon, he'll plead guilty, then it's open and shut."

Finn let out a sigh. "Open and shut is good. New York will sleep better knowing Ben Solo's behind bars. I know I will."

"Sleep even better when he's dead," Unic added with a smile.

"Dead?" Rey looked at Unic, stunned.

"Well, lethal injection, probably, although the electric chair is a possibility."

"New York doesn't have the death penalty," she said slowly.

"Yeah, but Delaware does. Some Dogs of Hell were murdered out there along Interstate ninety-five. DA Phasma just has to link the killings to Solo, and then they'll be well within their rights to extradite him."

"Are you and DA Phasma friends?" Poe asked, drumming his fingers on the table. He already knew the answer.

Unic shrugged. "I met her once."

The three of them shared a knowing glance.

"When?"

"Yesterday, when the judge assigned me to the case. But, Phasma's the one who took down Kylo Ren. She's not going through all these paces so that she can’t not put the final nail in his coffin."

Rey let out a breathy sound of a sardonic laugh. Of course. Of course, Phasma had been behind this.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Uric, I can't sign this yet."

"Oh,” he said with a disappointed voice. “Are you sure?"

She gave him a tight smile as she pushed the statement towards him. "Positive."

"We'll be in touch, Mr. Uric." Poe said, ushering him to the exit.

When the door of their office closed, Rey let out a sound of frustration.

"Statement he wanted me to sign? Complete work of fiction."

Finn sighed. "Probably handcrafted by Phasma."

"Well, we could write an anonymous letter,” Poe suggested. “And maybe the judge will assign a new public defender."

"Yeah, or we could help Solo ourselves," Rey offered.

"No way!" Finn exclaimed.

"We don't have to defend him," Poe said slowly, in thought. "We could just negotiate a plea deal. Without extradition, or an electric chair. And then, Solo goes away, Phasma gets her ticker-tape parade. Everyone wins."

"Everyone except us," Finn deadpanned. He threw up his hands. "You see the front door? That "open" sign is up, but nobody's walking in. If we keep messing with Phasma, we'll be shuttered by the end of the month."

"Come on, if we stand up to her, we could actually end her incessant bullying. And possibly save this guy's life."

He widened his eyes at her as if she truly and totally had gone bat-shit crazy. "A murderer who shot at you."

"For reasons that I don't fully understand yet."

"Are you crazy?!"

"Uric said Solo's gonna plead guilty,” Poe interrupted calmly. “So we get in there, we talk to him. Ask him some questions about what really happened to his family, why Phasma wants him dead. Build a fair plea and show the DA our justice system still has a backbone."

"Why are you defending this Poe!" Finn put his face in his hands for a moment. He calmed himself down before looking back at them. "This is a bad idea. For all of us."


	7. Alea Iacta Est

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Switches between Ben and Rey POV and yes they're finally in the same fucking room ik it took forever. It only goes up from here y'all better get ready for some angst.

“darkness cannot drive out darkness.” – _Martin Luther King_

×××

Chains rattled against each other, sounds of a helicopter's blades whipping through the air, dripping of blood. Screaming. That blood-curdling screaming.

He was there again. Back in that house with them, smiles and the smell of home-made food. He was home, part of his family again – where being overseas had cause rifts, his return had brought them together. His father, mother and him all sat around for a family dinner. He let out a rumble of a laugh at his mother's story, a genuine warm smile painting his features as he shook his head. He turned away for a second.

Guns to their heads.

He was no longer sitting in the dining room of his mother's house. It was dark, and they were spread out around the grassy areas of the park. His mother looked at him with horror etched into her eyes, his father is fearful too but it's not for himself. His father knows that this is _his_ fault.

He begged. Offered his life for theirs, with a cracked voice and tears welled in his eyes.

The gunshots ripped through them.

Ben opened his eyes. His breathing heavy and uneven, the ECG beeping quickly. His body ached dully, and his face had endured the cuts and bruises of being caught by the authorities the day before. To say he had given up was an understatement.

He was strapped down in a hospital bed. Apparently, the cold metal cuffs weren't enough to hold him down. Ben looked around to see he was in a large, private ward with red tape marked around his bed at a distance. He was a monster to them, a danger to society, being chained and caged didn't change that.

There was a man at the foot of his bed, at least close to it. He seemed to be leading whatever this was. There were two others in the room, a man and a woman.

"Ben Solo. My name is Poe Dameron." He had curly dark hair, wearing a black suit and a blue tie. He gestured to the man and a woman behind him. "This is my partner, Finn Walker and my associate, Rey Johnson."

He narrowed his eyes slightly, wondering why they were here. His eyes lingered on the woman; she was staring at him unashamedly. He recognized her, she was the woman protecting his target, Gunn, in the hospital when he had come searching.

"Yeah," he said gruffly. His voice rough from being asleep. "I know who you are. You protect dirtbags."

He recalled their 'client', Gunn. He worked with one of the gangs that had been involved. He had to put him down. Along with the rest of them.

"We came here today to make you an offer," Poe said after a moment. If he was offended by Ben's words, he made no attempt to voice it. "We don't want money for our services, we're not interested in fame or free advertising. Weren't even assigned to your case. We don't have to be here. But you take a quick look around, you'll notice we're the only ones who are. As you may well know, your list of enemies extends well beyond the gangs you've killed. You're very good at making powerful enemies. And the day you were admitted to Metro-General for the round you took to the head, a do-not-resuscitate order was placed on you.”

"And – And a shoot-to-kill order, just a few days ago," Finn, the other man, added with his words stuttering.

"We know, because we heard it given," the woman said assuredly.

"These orders were issued by the District Attorney. And the fact that she's had it in for us ever since we started asking questions tells us we're on the right track," Poe continued. "Someone in the DA's office wants you dead, Mr. Solo and we'd like to know why. You let us take your case, we can soften your sentence, and give you a shot. Maybe even find out who's responsible for what happened to you."

Ben rested his head back against the pillow, turning his head away from them. They wanted to save him. Didn't they know that there was nothing left of him to save?

"We're talking about your life, Mr. Solo. We can help you keep what's left of it."

"Yeah." He turned his head back to Poe. "Kinda like what you did for Gunn, huh?"

"Rey. Rey!"

The woman, Rey, had passed the tape to show him a picture. Both Finn and Poe had reached out to hold her back, but she wasn't going to let that stop her.

"You want answers?" She asked roughly in her British accent, showing the picture in her hand to him. "So do we, but none of us will get them if you're dead."

It was a picture of him with his mother, father on the day he had returned from deployment, at the park. It was kept in a frame on the table in the living room, and now it was in her hands.

The very sight of it. Their faces. Their smiles.

He couldn’t breathe.

He pulled against his restraints, towards her. His eyes wide as he looked up from the picture to her, his voice low and desperate. "Where did you get that?"

"From your house."

"You were in her house?” He said breathlessly. The realization set in. “Why were you in her house?" His temper flared. "You go in her house – "

"Someone is lying about what happened to your family, Mr. Solo," she said firmly.

Ben stared at her. Her green eyes filled with nothing but determination and resolve. Her words sinking into him as he deliberated, any anger he had felt moments ago began to dissipate. There was something else happening here and she knew it.

She knew.

"Rey." Poe pulled her back gently until she was behind the tape. He caught the way the man’s fingers lingered on her arm.

There was a long silence.

"I accept your offer."

They fumbled with their things, surprised that he had accepted. Perhaps they thought he would challenge them, give them time to argue their point before he decided.

He was still staring at Rey; her face had softened into something of relief. Or was it pity? He wasn't sure anymore.

Someone stormed through the door. It was the District Attorney. Yeah, he recognized her. Her cropped hair as pale as her skin and her mouth set in a firm line. She towered over them as she addressed them. "What are you doing?" She snarled. "Get out."

"One moment, Mr. Solo." Poe said, leaving the ward along with his colleagues.

Finn turned to Rey. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine."

Once they were all standing outside, Poe asked in a calm tone, "How can we help you Ms. Phasma?"

"Leave this ward, leave this man, leave this entire case behind before you wake up six feet under the ash that was your reputation and promising legal career." She threated. Her eyes turned to the door of the ward before landing back on them. "Mr. Solo already has assigned legal counsel."

"Mr. Solo has chosen Dameron and Walker to be his legal counsel. He’s our client now."

" _Your_ client?" She scoffed. "You can't represent Solo when one of his victims was your former client."

"Alleged victims."

"All the same."

"Representing Gunn might have complicated matters, but then again, all evidence of our work with him and our deal with you seems to have disappeared from public record." Poe grinned smugly.

Finn put a finger to his chin. "It's almost as if someone didn't want it known that you violated a witpro contract, jeopardized the safety of said witness, and then ordered a shoot-to-kill on Solo. But I guess Ms. Phasma could just confess to that when she files this conflict of interest complaint. We have our case files to back up our story. How's your side looking?"

"The fact of the matter is, Ms. Phasma, the only person who shouldn't be here right now is you. Seeing as it's a breach of ethics for the prosecuting attorney to communicate with the defendant without his assigned legal counsel present." Phasma turned red, her clenched fists shaking with anger. "So, if you'll excuse us, we'd like to resume our conversation with Mr. Solo."

Poe stood his ground, watching as the stationed armed officers sent her on her way. When she was gone, Finn looked at Poe with relief.

"Finally feel like we have the upper hand against that woman."

"Yeah, she bluffs well, but she'll negotiate."

"She doesn't want this going to trial," Rey noted.

"Of course, she wants it to end quickly, so she can move on to burying us," Finn said with a nervous tone.

Poe put a hand on Finn's shoulder. "Let's just deal with one problem at a time."

"So where are we supposed to start?"

"Let's have the charges and evidence summary brought in here. We can weed through it and work out what terms we want directly with Solo. It'll save time."

×

"This is worse than I thought." Finn threw the sheet of paper onto a stack, frustration etched on his features. "Thirty-seven separate murder charges." He looked at Rey. "What about you?"

"Uh, ninety-eight lesser I mean, felony assault, burglary criminal possession of a weapon, reckless endangerment. Any number of criminal mischief charges."

"We're so screwed."

"We can do this," Poe said. "We've already got this far, okay?"

They both nodded at him.

"You ready to go in?" Rey asked.

"Considering the arraignment's in a couple hours, we don't have much of a choice." Finn pointed out.

"Time to play twenty questions with a killer."

They walked back into the ward. Poe stood where he had before, Finn was closer than he had been before. Rey had taken the stacks of paper and files they didn't need, sitting with her legs crossed over in a small black chair outside the tape. Ben's gaze never left her.

"I've reviewed the charges you're facing. It's my understanding that you wish to plead guilty to all of them?" Ben said nothing. "I'm gonna need a verbal confirmation if we're gonna continue."

Silence. Rey looked at Ben, realizing that he wasn't even focused on what Poe was saying. He was staring at her. She furrowed her brows in confusion.

"Look, you asked us to represent you. In order to do our job – "

"I'm guilty," he said firmly, his eyes only on her. Rey's mouth felt dry as the words hung heavy on her, her expression relaxing as she held his gaze. She had already known and yet, it still disturbed her.

"Great, uh – " Finn stuttered.

His voice was gruff but his gaze never moved from her. "I'm not talking to you."

"What?"

"Her," he said simply. "I need to talk to her alone."

"Absolutely not." Finn said immediately, waving his hands in a 'no' motion. "My colleague is – "

She furrowed her brows at him. "I'll do it."

Her colleagues looked at her incredulously.

"Rey..." Poe started.

She nodded and looked towards them reassuringly. "I'll talk to him."

She set the large stacks of paper on to the chair, only holding the sheets she needed as she got up. With a few moments of hesitation and a sigh, Poe handed over the documents to her his fingers lingered over hers for a moment. She nodded at him and they both left. She closed the door behind them with a hard click.

They were alone.

Rey inhaled deeply.

She rocked on her feet a little, before walking towards him again. Her eyes staring at the paper as she spoke, "If you're feeling up to it, I – "

"My family." He cut through her words easily. "What do you know?"

She cleared her throat again. Why was her throat so dry? "Uh, we can get to that."

"What do you know about my family?" He asked firmly.

She let out a breath, she didn't know she was holding. Fuck it. She walked over to the chair, her thumb brushing through files before she pulled out a paperclipped stack of paper.

"Have you ever seen this?" She showed it to him, but his silence led her to read it out. "Police report, complaint number two-one-one-nine-seven-four." She waited again, but he said nothing. "Victims were stopped at a traffic light northbound on Buellton Ave, when an unidentified male suspect began firing a nine mm handgun at their vehicle. An adult male and an adult woman were found dead at the scene. Adult male driver was critically wounded and taken to Metro-General."

His eyes turned dark. "That's bullshit."

She got closer.

"That's the story Phasma is running with." He swallowed at her words and she could see that dark cloud growing in size. "But you and I know you and your family, you were at the park that day." Her voice was softer than she realised. "From what I can piece together, it seems like you were caught in some kind of firefight. How much can you remember?"

His gaze finally strayed away from her towards the windows. "This isn't about what I remember."

She took several steps forwards, way past the tape. "Yes. Yes, it is. Mr. Solo. I've got a lot of puzzle pieces, but trust me, this moves a lot smoother if you can tell me anything."

There was a long pause and she took him in. The heavy bruising, yellow and purple and then the black eyes. The stitching near his hair line, the split lip. The slight bent of his nose, like he had broken it long ago. This was Kylo Ren. And yet, she could see beyond that. She could see Ben Solo hiding beneath all of it.

"It goes in and out," he said lowly.

"Okay."

"We took our stuff down to our spot. We were settled down on the lawn, but she… She had forgotten something in the car. Then I heard her shout. Scream." Rey had her arms crossed but it was because she was holding herself together. "It was a man."

"Who did you see?"

He closed his eyes, shaking his head. "I didn't. But I found out later. The Cartel. Irish. Bikers."

All the gangs he’d gunned down. This wasn’t just vigilante work. It was revenge. Justice…?

"Anyone else?" She asked quietly.

His eyes were watering, and his hands trembled. He hung his head in shame, the words leaving him tainted with self-loathing. "I should've seen it coming."

She furrowed her brows at him, taking in this large frame of a man who seemed to cower at the sound of those words. Nothing but the heaviness of guilt weighing down on his wide shoulders. A guilt she understood all too well.

"How could you know?"

She didn’t know if she was telling him or herself.

"What'd I just say to you?" His temper was starting to flare. But it wasn't anger, it was shame. When she said nothing, he took a breath. "I said that I heard it,” he said softly. “I heard it and I didn't do anything." His voice was getting thick. "My job was to keep them safe. I didn't. I didn't do it."

She could see it again. Blood. The limp figure beside her. The smoke.

She bit her lip, holding back her own emotions. "Uh, I think..." She pressed a hand against her mouth and closed her eyes for a moment. She started to walk away, collecting the files and her purse and heading towards the door. "The questions can wait a minute, I'll just - Why don't I come back when you're -"

"Stay." His voice cracked as he spoke, watching her as she stood frozen near the exit. It was so desperate, so engulfed with pain that it stopped her in her tracks. "Please," he offered gently.

Her head turned back towards him. Her heart pounding beneath her chest before she decided she would. She would stay. She didn’t know why, couldn’t possibly give any sane reason why but she did.

There was a long pause before she set her things down again. Not saying a word as she paced slowly across the room.

"You were never in any danger," he said finally, breaking the tension.

"What?"

"The other night. Babysitting that piece of shit, running around with that Gunn. I only hurt people that deserve it. I wanted you to know that."

He said it like he wasn’t a threat to her. Like he wanted her to know that he wasn’t. She pushed the thought aside.

"You think he deserved it?" She said curiously, her tone a tad demeaning.

"I do," he said firmly. "You know he used to do hits for the Irish? He shot an old lady because she saw his face." The surprised expression on her face made him shake his head. "I guess he didn't tell you that, huh?” He waited a moment, looking directly at her. “The point is, you were safe, okay? I just wanted you to know that."

"Guess I'm just supposed to take your word on that." She shook her head. "Classy."

"Nothing to do with my word, ma'am."

"No?"

"No," he said earnestly. "Look, you got any idea what a scout sniper is? You ever heard of that?"

"No."

"Okay, well, you're looking at one. My class in Quantico was class three-oh-seven. And we had a motto. It was a saying. It was, "One shot, one kill." The point is, if I wanted you dead, you'd be dead."

What the fuck was he talking about? Was this supposed to make her feel better? "Why, why am I here?" She asked in a confusedly, throwing her hands up a little. "Why did you ask me to stay?"

There was a silence.

"I don't... I guess I worry that the memories are just gonna go away."

"Mr. Solo – "

"Look, you were in her house," he interrupted. There was a sigh, as though he wasn't sure how to continue.

She furrowed her brows, realizing something. "You, you never went back? After your family was – "

"No. Can I just ask you... Were you in the kitchen?"

"I went past it."

"The plates, were they on the table, or did they get into the sink?

"Um - Uh I think, washed. In the rack."

"How about in the living room, did you see the fireplace under the mantelpiece?"

"Yeah," she said slowly before stating firmly. "Yeah."

" When I was a kid, I used to grab a handful of cookies and take them and hide them up there. You know, play soldier. Guard it, protect it." He had a ghost of smile playing on his lips.

"Oh, yeah?" She smiled.

"Then I'd fall asleep in there."

"Yeah, I, um... When I was little girl, I did the same thing. Except ginger snaps and, um, broom closet." She surprised herself at the revelation.

"Oh, yeah?" It was his turn to smile.

"Pretend it was a spaceship. Take me far away," she laughed. The sound of it felt warm in the bleak room.

"I guess we need that. We need to get away sometimes."

She nodded. She knew that all too well.

"There were a lot of pictures of you," she said softly. She didn't know what it was like to have parents that loved her. But from the sight of all the perfectly framed photos of him as a young kid to him in the Marines, she knew what it looked like. "They even had your medals up. Look, Ben, it's really not for me to say but they clearly loved you. Very much."

She realised how easy his name felt on her lips.

There were tears welling in his eyes. "Yeah," he said quietly.

She dug through her purse, fishing out the picture she had shown him earlier. "Here." She placed it gently into his hand.

He glanced it once before looking away. It must have brought back so many memories and reminded him of the emptiness that had been left in their absence. Just watching his reaction evoked something inside her. Something between empathy and her own grief.

"Thank you. Thank you, ma'am."

"For what?"

"You helped – You helped me remember."

"You're welcome," she said softly.

There was a moment’s pause.

"If you want to ask your questions, you can go ahead."

She retrieved the sheet of questions, sitting back on her seat.

There was an understanding between them, and maybe that understanding would be the saving grace of his case.

×

"It's your lucky day, Mr. Solo. The six Dogs of Hell gang members you wiped out in Delaware? Won't be an issue anymore. Delaware doesn't have the evidence to charge and extradite, so the death penalty is officially off the table," Poe explained.

"But Phasma also wanted three life sentences without the possibility of parole. But as the Walker in Dameron and Walker, I got her down to one, with the possibility of parole in twenty-five years. That's the good news."

"And the bad?" Rey asked.

"She wouldn't budge on protective custody. He's gonna have to be in general pop."

"Uh, no, that's bullshit. All right? He'll be, he'll be surrounded by criminals, people out for his blood," Rey argued.

Ben watched her, slightly mesmerized by how determined she was. Like she was fighting _for_ him. "Sounds like a party," Ben said sardonically.

"No doubt you can handle yourself Mr. Solo, but I think Phasma is betting on the gangs here. Legally, though? I think this is the best possible deal we're gonna make right now."

"So, we recommend you take it."

"Okay."

"Okay, so, when the judge and Phasma come in all you have to do is say three simple words. "Guilty, Your Honor." And you'll never have to see us again."

At those last words, his eyes turned to Rey. She looked at him like he was human. And he could see the desperation in her eyes. She wanted the same thing as him, at least he thought so.

He moved his eyes from hers back to Finn. "Can do." 

×

"Case number four-eight-five-four, The People v. Ben Solo. Do you waive the reading of the charges?"

The stenographer clicked away, following the words of the judge.

"Yes, Your Honor."

"All right, then. How does the defendant plead?"

There was a long silence. His eyes flickered between the judge and Rey. Memories of gunfire, blood and screaming. His eyes flickered back to Rey, seeing her furrow her brows questioningly. He looked at the DA, the woman who had covered it up. Fire ran coursed through his blood. His heart thundered in his ears.

"I plead not guilty." His spat towards her. His voice shook the room as his temper ignited. "You hear that, witch? I'm gonna watch you burn right along with me! You hear me?"

Phasma looked shocked, but it was quickly masked with coldness.

"Counselors, please control your client," the judge warned.

"Do you hear me?!"

"I'm sorry, Your Honor," Poe apologized quickly.

The judge’s voice turned icy. "The defendant has entered a plea of not guilty. Due to the nature and severity of the crimes he is accused of, bail is denied. A court date will be set upon consultation with the DA's office. We are adjourned."

×

The ward had been cleared.

Poe pulled Finn and Rey aside. But Finn was still recovering, dazed from what had happened.

"Holy shit," Finn said agitatedly. "That was not supposed to happen."

Poe turned to her. "What'd you say to him?"

"What?"

"Three hours ago, he was pleading guilty. Why did he change his mind?"

She furrowed her brows, folding her arms defensively. "Maybe he just wants the truth. About Gunn, about his family, about the cover-up. I mean, if we go to trial, then it all comes out, right?"

"There's no "if." This is happening," Poe said firmly.

"Holy shit," Finn repeated again. "This is gonna be the trial of the century."


	8. Dulce Periculum

“empathy is about finding echoes of another person in yourself.” – _Mohsin Hamid_

×××

"Potential juror number seventeen, please state your name."

"Tegen Annix."

"Can you state for the court any pre-existing opinion, any at all, that you may hold for the defendant, Ben Solo?" The judge asked.

"I think he's an animal a sick, twisted, venal - "

Another day, another juror.

" – Hero. That's what we should be calling him. Doing the things the cops won't do, Ben Solo is a – "

Another day, another juror.

" – A grotesque insult to the Second Amendment, a fascist without the authority. If you ask me, people like Kylo Ren ought to be – "

Another juror.

" – Applauded for putting all the thieves and muggers and rapists in the morgue, where they belong. Let those bastards feel scared walking down the street for a change. It's like the only thing protecting us is Ben Solo."

Another Juror.

"I just moved my family to New York, and now we're moving out. If anyone can kill anyone in this town… Where does the insanity end?"

It had been a long three weeks of juror selecting and they were all worn out.

They were alone in the courtroom.

"Counselors, over four hundred potential jurors have come through this courtroom. So I should tell you.” The judge let out a sigh as she took off her glasses to look down at them. “If you can't agree to move forward with the twelve men and women selected, I will make this trial a living hell for all of you."

"Your Honor, New York hasn't seen a trial this divisive and this public in years. Finding an impartial jury is not easy. Everybody has an opinion about Ben Solo," Finn explained.

"It's New York, Mr. Walker. Everybody has an opinion about everything.” She pointed her glasses towards the prosecution. "Ms. Phasma, is the prosecution satisfied with its jury panel?"

"Yes, Your Honor."

"And the defense, Mr. Dameron and Mr. Walker?"

"Uh, yes, Your Honor, we are."

"Thank Christ." She put her glasses back on and look down at her files. "The trial of The People of New York v. Ben Solo is now in session."

×

  
"If I get my hands on the worthless intern who organized these files." Rey furiously moved around the boxes of paperwork out of the conference room.

"Oh, I'm sure that intern's just following the DA's orders. It's not officially sabotage, just sets us back," Finn explained.

"It's a cheap trick," Rey huffed.

"We got bigger problems.” Poe looked at them. “Like, locking a defense."

Finn stopped shuffling his papers to look at him. "M'Naghten Rule's still our best bet."

"What's that?" Rey asked, setting down the box.

"Uh, the, uh, insanity plea."

"Whoa, guys." She looked at them incredulously. "We need to buy a _not guilty_ verdict."

"My high school debate team could prove that Solo did it," Finn said pointedly.

Poe pointed a chewed pen at Rey. "We need an affirmative defense."

"Yeah, I get that. But I'm not so sure Ben is insane."

"I'm no doctor, but I'd say he's at least driven past Crazy Town."

"Finn, I'm serious."

"She has a point," Poe agreed. "I mean, insanity only has a point-twelve percent acquittal rate in New York. Phasma is just gonna call in some expert shrink witness to blow our case apart."

"What case?" Finn asked frustratedly.

"Look, what if we push for a mistrial? We get more time. We talk about the DNR and the suits and Phasma's involvement. We get her kicked off the case. She wouldn't see it coming," Rey offered.

"If we go down that road now, we gotta prove, in a court of law, that the government willfully hid evidence of the Solo ambush, and that Phasma was involved."

"Well, I was there, and you guys were there."

"We're not exactly impartial, okay? And either way, we need an opening statement tomorrow."

"I can open with PTSD as a mitigating factor, focus on Solo's time at war."

"So you think the war is what made Ben what he is?" Rey shot at Poe in a bothered tone.

"Our only goal is to reduce the charges and set precedent," Poe reminded her. "Solo made a lot of enemies, all right? If he goes into general population, he's as good as dead. We need to get him somewhere safe, where he can get help, and citing PTSD could do that. I mean, none of us know what Solo saw over there but research suggests that PTSD can be triggered by new stressors."

She thought for a moment. "Like losing your family."

"I need to get to work on the opening statement, but we need to be sure Solo will get on board with this."

"Uh, I'll try. I mean, Ben made it pretty clear he's willing to talk to me, at least, just as long as I'm alone."

"Are you sure you wanna do that?" Finn asked worriedly.

"Well, I want to help.” Rey sat down on the chair, opposite Poe. She looked between them, noticing their apprehension. “We have a better shot at getting him to talk if I go."

"I'll grab the list of questions I was working on." Finn left the conference room to go his office.

"Rey. You know you don't have to do this by yourself." Poe placed a hand over hers.

"It's okay. He doesn't scare me."

Poe furrowed his brows. "Maybe he should."

"I can take care of myself."

"I know but I'd be saying it to Finn. Or a Navy SEAL. Just... Just watch your back."

"Promise," she smiled. She pulled her hand away and stood up.

"Here you go." He handed the sheet but before she could take it, he pulled it away from reach. "Just do me a favor, stick to the script."

She rolled her eyes, taking the list from him. "Okay.” She took it from him and looked over it. “Wish me luck."

"Good luck."

Rey grabbed her purse and left the office, snapping the door shut.

Finn turned to Poe with a grin. "Grow up so fast, don't they?" 

×

She followed the prison guard as he led her to a small room. There was a loud buzz before the door swung open. She walked inside, seeing Ben sat on a table with an empty chair across from him. She took her seat and placed the file down on the table.

"Hi, Ben." Her voice was softer than she had realized. Almost breathless.

"Ma'am."

She shuffled through the file. Stick to the script. "We've been looking over similar cases legal precedents, and we think it would help to bring forth someone from your past maybe from your military unit, someone who could speak to the nature of your service."

He looked at her with a confused expression, his head tilting slightly to catch her eyes. "What's that got to do with anything?"

"It's a character witness." His expression didn't change. "Uh, we put someone on the stand who knows you well. That can speak to what you've been through."

He scoffed, as though he was disappointed in her. "PTSD?"

She felt embarrassed, knowing it wasn't true as much as he did. But she needed to stick to the script. Her voice became formal. "We think it would greatly help with your defense."

He shook his head, pulling his arms off the table away from her. "Don't do that. It's an insult."

"Lots of veterans experience it."

"I'm not talking about me, I'm talking about them." He turned back to her. "It's an insult to _them_. The people who are actually going through it. I know what you want you do, you want to sit here and label me just another case of some crazy-ass combat vet who lost his mind. Maybe that'll appeal to some asshole jury in some shitbag court.” He held her gaze and his eyes turned softer, and she could see the hurt behind them. “It wasn't on a battlefield. That's not when my life went to shit." He took a breath and placed his forearms against the table. "Now, ma'am, I believe that you told me that you were gonna find me answers. That's what you said to me. Do you have anything for me or not?"

She shook her head. "Not that easy."

"That what you want?” He asked frustratedly. “You want things to be easy?"

"You are on trial for multiple homicides and you don't have a defense strategy in place." Her voice was heated. "You don't cooperate with us, it doesn't matter if I help you figure out who killed your family, you will never see _justice_." She took a breath, allowing herself to calm down before adding, "All you will do, the rest of your life, is rot in a goddamn jail cell."

There was a long silence and Rey felt she had overstepped. It wasn’t her place to say anything, to even care this much about him. But she did. And she had displayed it out for him to see.

Shit.

She started to berate herself, but he broke the silence.

"Colonel Thomas Snoke,” he said quietly. “My old CO. Let's forget the PTSD defense, but if you want a character witness, the Colonel, he will do."

She wrote it down quickly. "Thank you."

"Now, ma'am, do you have anything for me or not?” His tone turned lighter. “Or maybe I should go back and rot in my goddamn jail cell?"

Rey flustered. "Yeah. Yeah, I did some digging.” She pulled open the file, spreading out the paperwork in front of them. “All right, there are huge moving parts and they do not want to be seen."

He looked at her confusedly. "I've already looked at all of those. I've done it a hundred times."

"Sure." She gave him a small smile. "But you haven't done it with me."

×

"Uh, where's Poe?"

"He went home. Said he'd be working on his opening statements.” Finn sparked up, optimism in his eyes. “Did you talk to Solo?"

"Yeah. He won't endorse PTSD, so..."

He covered his face with his hands. "Shit."

"He's not having war flashbacks, Finn," Rey explained. "It's just not the truth."

"Did Solo say anything that we can use?" He asked desperately. "Because when the Judge calls the first witness tomorrow, my only plan so far is to run away, and never stop."

"Well I, uh, went over some of our files with Ben." She ruffled through, pulling out a report. "The medical examiner's report from his family's murder, it's filled out by a Dr. Irene Kynnovan."

"Yeah.” He quickly ruffled through the stacks of files and flicked through before pulling out a sheet. “She's the chief medical examiner. She's scheduled to testify for Phasma."

"Well his report says that Leia Organa and Han Solo each were killed by a single gunshot, but Ben says there were multiple wounds. He describes them in awful detail, different angles, bullet calibers, exit wounds that are too big for a handgun." She fumbled for words as she recalled his descriptions. "I mean, his family was practically shredded."

"There's a discrepancy, which is good, but it's still their word against Ben's… Who was also shot in the head."

Rey noticed his dismissive tone and took offence. She folded her arms and tried to think of the right words.

"Okay. Just for a minute try to be Ben Solo." She raised a hand to his objections and let out a breath. "Just try, okay?” Finn nodded reluctantly. “To, to be solely fueled by a single cluster of seconds. Just one moment in your entire life. And every time you close your eyes, you _relive_ that moment. And every time you open them, you find only the briefest peace before you realize that that nightmare is real. That nothing has changed. Your family isn't coming back. And so, you watch them die all over again right in front of you." She shook her head in exasperation. "We're not talking about something that happened to Ben Solo, we're talking about something that is happening to him."

Finn looked at her, really looked her and she was afraid of what he was going to ask. She wasn’t sure if she even knew the answer himself.

"I hear you,” he said quietly. Rey felt eased that he didn’t ask. “I do. But short of having his family's bodies exhumed we still have no proof that what Ben is saying is the truth."

"Okay, so let's say the ME's report was doctored," she offered.

"It's still tangential and, so far, inadmissible. Unless we can get this ME to corroborate Ben's story on the stand."

"Can you do that?"

"It's a long shot. She's still probably in her pocket, but if it works maybe we expose Phasma and we get the mistrial you've been praying for. So, trial starts in a few hours, and in lieu of a bullet-damaged brain, our case hinges on getting a dirty medical examiner to crack on the stand." He sighed. "As long as he has the opening statement of the year, I'd I think maybe we have a chance. Guess I'll call Poe. Give him the news."


	9. Inter Arma Enim Silent Leges

“from a stranger to someone I can't stop thinking about.” – _Unknown_

×××

"Court is now in session, the Honorable Judge Cynthia Varm presiding. Indictment number one-nine-eight-six-four-four-four-seven, The People v. Ben Solo. Be seated."

There was shuffling as people took their seats. Rey was seated beside Ben, who was cuffed to the table, Finn and Poe beside her. Ben’s orange jumpsuit contrasted against the bland tones of the courtroom. There were several guards on standby.

"Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, the defendant has been indicted for several serious crimes. Ms. Phasma, are the People ready to begin opening statements?"

"More than ready, Your Honor."

Phasma stood up, her heels clicking as she walked towards the jury. "Ladies and gentlemen of the jury Ben Solo brutally tortured and murdered 30 people. Thirty that we know of. He took the law into his own hands. Acted as judge, jury, and most violent executioner. And you will hear that the defendant's victims were criminals, but the victims are not on trial here today, and justice does not belong in the hands of a man like Ben Solo. This isn't the Wild West. Justice is served here.” She waved a hand around the room. “In a court of law. And it is up to each of you to take back the city from lawless vigilantes like Ben Solo.” Her eyes turned sharply over at him, cold and hard. “This man is _no_ _hero_. He's a serial killer. And he is guilty.” She turned to the judge. “Thank you." She returned to her seat.

"Mr. Dameron, are you prepared to make your opening statement?"

"Yes, Your Honor, the defense is ready to proceed."

"Good luck," Rey whispered to him. He smiled at her.

Poe stood up, standing where Phasma had been. "You're nineteen, standing in hot sand sun burning down, noise of gunfire. The only thing that you know for sure is that you're surrounded by an enemy that wants you dead. But you do it. You endure it. Why? Because you have orders. And you have a duty. And also, because your life doesn't end here. You have people you love waiting at home.”

Rey saw Ben shift uncomfortably in his seat, his eyes locked on the cuffs.

Poe gestured towards him. “Because aside from being a decorated marine, the person before you is a good man and an excellent son. Ben Solo returned from the hell of war wanting nothing more than to pick up his life. But his mother and father were brutally murdered by criminals, and no one, not the police and certainly not the District Attorney stepped up to make it right.” Phasma’s lip curled at that. “See, Ben Solo never came home. He just traded in one war zone for another.” Some of the jury turned from Poe to look sympathetically towards Ben. “This trial isn't about vigilantes. It's about the _failure_ of the justice system. And how one man, Ben Solo, is being used as a pawn to cover up that system's mistakes. The prosecution wants blood. But as the judge just said to get it, they have to prove their case beyond a reasonable doubt. So, all I'm asking of you today keep an open mind.” Poe turned to the judge. “That's all, Your Honor."

Poe sat back down with a relieved sigh.

×

Rey was lounging on Poe's couch. He was sitting beside her, his legs stretched out onto the coffee table. They were both eating Thai food that he had offered to buy, she insisted on paying but he was adamant. Finn had gone back to the office to do some more work, which had made her feel guilty initially, but he always was a workaholic. Besides, it wasn’t like they _weren’t_ working.

It was nice, being here with Poe. It felt like she was a better version of herself, the person she could be. Someone who could be happy.

Poe wolfed down some Thai before answering. "You get Kynnovan thinking about the real report. The real truth. And then when she's disoriented, I follow up with something like "Who had you change the report?" And even – "

"And even if she says "no one," it proves It proves that the report was changed," she finished, pointing a fork at him, in awe. "That's brilliant."

"See? You're a natural." He playfully nudged her with a grin.

She smiled shyly. "Yeah, well I keep good company."

His grin widened as he took her expression in. She pulled her gaze away to eat and she could see him still watching her.

"You ever consider law school?"

She laughed. "Oh, I don't know."

"Well, Finn and I know a lot of good people at Columbia. I mean, if it's something you want." He shrugged nonchalantly. "Just thinking Dameron and Walker might be more fun as Dameron, Walker and Johnson."

"You're sweet, but I don't know. I don't know if law school is really the right fit for me. I guess there's just something about the rules and the loopholes. It just feels like the truth gets lost a little too often."

He tilted his head. "Well, not every case will be The People v. Ben Solo."

"Right." She moved the food around the plate with her fork. "It's not just this case. It's..."

"What is it?"

"You ever think back to the night we first met?"

He frowned. "Yeah."

"While I sat in that police station alone. I was afraid of the whole world. Well, at least, until you and Finn came into my life and... You trusted me. You gave me hope," she recalled.

She felt her voice become small, recalling the events. She had just escaped her previous life and had barely survived the streets. But Maz had helped her get back onto her feet. Pulling enough strings to get her a job as an assistant at an accounting firm. She had regained control over her life and was trying to do the right thing. To pay for her sins.

She had found errors in financial reports, signs of embezzlement. She didn't realize the consequences of her speaking up about it to the higher-ups. She didn't know that they'd end up framing her for murder. Waking up beside her dead co-worker with a bloody knife in her hand.

If it wasn't for Dameron and Walker, she'd be wrongly locked up. And the people who had framed her would be walking free.

"But what about when the law doesn't work? Like it did with me, like it did with Ben. What are we supposed to turn to?” Her voice became more confident. “What should we believe will protect us then?"

Poe furrowed his brows confusedly. "What do you want me to say?"

"I don't know," she sighed. She put down the plate and turned to him. "I guess it's just ever since we took on Ben's case, I keep asking myself if there's really a difference between someone who saves lives and someone who prevents lives from needing to be saved at all."

"Wait a second." Poe shifted in his seat to turn to her completely. "Ben Solo should be behind bars. I mean, he deserves a fair trial, but he's murdered people."

"Yeah, right. But bad people.” She flustered under his scrutinizing gaze. “I mean, the ones who killed his family."

He frowned at her, shaking his head quickly at her words. "No, no. It's not Solo's decision who lives or dies. That's up to a jury. What happened to Solo's family is a tragedy, Rey, but it doesn't give him the right to kill."

"No, no, no. Not the right. That's not what I'm saying." She sighed, trying to find the words. "I'm just saying that I can understand why Ben – why anyone would seek vengeance for something after, after losing everything."

"That's not the same. Vengeance is not justice.” His voice was strained. “What he's doing is completely wrong.”

"But, right or wrong, you can't deny that it works," she argued heatedly.

Poe was taken aback by her words. "You really believe that?"

"I don't know...” She covered her mouth with a hand as deliberated. “Yes. Maybe."

There was a deafening silence.

She stood up, feeling uncomfortable with her admission. "You know, maybe this is a good time to call it a night. I just, just think we're both exhausted."

"Yeah," he nodded. His face disappointed and his voice void of emotion. "You're right."

"I'll walk myself out."

She headed towards his door, feeling a little empty as she left him behind.

He could make her happy, if she let him. But it wasn't the same. It wasn't the same with _him_.

×

"Prosecution, call your first witness.

"Yes, Your Honor."

"Dr. Irene Kynnovan, how long have you been medical examiner for the city of New York?" Finn asked.

"Uh, fourteen years, uh, give or take."

"And how many death certificates would you estimate you've signed in that time?"

She was nervous, too nervous. A sheen of sweat covering her skin. "Huh? Um, I don't, uh It's probably in the tens of thousands," she answered hoarsely. She fiddled with her hands. "Mr. Walker I have something I need to say."

"Doctor?"

"Your Honor, I'm sorry, but I have to, on the record I need to say something about what I did."

The judge turned to the officers. "Clear the gallery."

"Yes, Your Honor. All jury members, please exit back to the deliberation room. Everyone in the gallery, please make your way out of the courtroom at this time."

It was cleared in a matter of minutes.

"What's all this about?"

"I know what the defense was gonna ask me about, and it's true. I altered the autopsy reports."

"You're referring to the official findings on the murders of Ben Solo's family?"

"Not just them," she said reluctantly. "You don't understand. I had to do it. They came to my office."

"Who came to your office?"

"After the defendant's family was murdered, two men I'd never seen before they warned me, if I didn't fix the case reports, they'd come after my family next."

"You falsified the autopsy findings on the Solo family?" The judge asked.

"Them and one more."

"Who?" Finn asked.

"I don't know. Some John Doe killed the same day. Male, adult, multiple gunshot wounds. Look, you can fire me, arrest me I don't care. I thought this was behind me, but after last night..."

"Doctor, did something happen last night to impact your testimony?" The judge asked concernedly.

"She was in my house. She tied me up. She said she didn't give a damn who got to me before. If I didn't tell the defense what really happened, she'd hunt me down and kill me."

"Who told you this?"

"I don't know. A woman. I couldn't see her face, she was wearing some sort of silver mask."

"Your Honor, I believe the defense intends to distract the jury and make this case about some impossible-to-prove conspiracy theories," Phasma started.

"Impossible to prove? Your ME just confirmed that she doctored the autopsy records," Finn exclaimed.

"She also said that she'd been threatened. If my office finds out that your firm had anything to do with this."

"Our firm? For all we know, it was you who sent them."

"I've heard enough." The judge looked over them before turning to Kynnovan. "It's clear to me that whatever Dr. Kynnovan may know about these autopsy reports has been tainted by threats made by person or persons unknown."

Finn stood up. "Then the defense asks for a mistrial."

"Not on your life, Mr. Walker.” Finn sat back down with a huff. “I'm still not convinced these documents, whatever they may be, are even relevant to this trial. I'm striking the doctor's entire testimony and instructing the jurors to disregard anything they may have heard."

Poe widened his eyes and stood up. "Your Honor, I strongly urge you to – "

"We're done here, counselor. Trial will reconvene tomorrow with the prosecution's next witness."

They walked out of the courthouse, feeling nothing but hopeless.

"Once again, Phasma finds a new way to screw us."


	10. Semper Fidelis

“it is not the bruises on the body that hurt, it is the wounds of the heart and the scars on the mind.” – _Aisha Mirza_

×××

"Please state your name."

The man stood straight in his uniform, displaying all his medals. His fast scarred and his head buzzed short. "Colonel Thomas Snoke, United States Marine Corps.”

"Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth, so help you God?"

"I do."

"You got this," Rey whispered to Poe.

"Counsel?" The judge asked.

Poe got up, walking over to address Snoke. "Colonel, how long have you known the defendant?"

Snoke looked over at Ben, who hung his head lowly. He stared at his cuffs, unable to meet his gaze. "I'd say, the better part of a decade. Most of his career in the Marine Corps."

"So, you're familiar with his service in the Middle East? Afghanistan, Pakistan, Iran?"

"Yes, very familiar."

"I wonder if you could tell us how Lieutenant Ben Solo won the Navy Cross?"

Snoke hesitated, looking towards the Jury before looking back to Poe. "Due to the nature of that mission, you'll have to understand that the precise circumstances are classified."

"How about the part that's not?"

"Lieutenant Ben Solo was part of a small team. He was conducting a close target reconnaissance in the vicinity of the Hindu Kush. The mission became compromised, taking enemy contact on three sides. Lieutenant Solo wanted to abort. Said the mission was a bust, pulling the plug would save lives. Officer in charge didn't agree."

"And why was that?"

"Maybe he wanted more medals on his chest. Doesn't matter. Either way, Ben was right. They were cut off, boxed into a canyon."

“And what happened next?”

"Within the first hour, the officer in charge of that mission got his face blown off. So Lieutenant Solo assumed command. His only goal was to get his men out alive. The enemy had set up an ambush at the only LZ that would accommodate one of our birds."

Poe furrowed his brows. "Sorry, Colonel?"

"LZ is a landing zone that can accommodate a helicopter," he explained. "So the enemy, they block this landing zone, knowing it was the only shot the team had to get out alive. All they had to do was wait. They knew that Ben's team had to come to them."

"Fish in a barrel."

"So to speak,” Snoke answered. “Only fish don't know they're gonna die. These men did. Ben went to the LZ all by himself to draw the bastards away."

"Why didn't he order one of his men to do it? He certainly could have," Poe pointed out.

Snoke shook his head with a smile. "Not his style. So the men hear the fire fight break out. All hell breaks loose. Ben against God knows how many. And then there was silence. The team thinks, "That's it. Ben's dead, and we're next." Next sound they hear is the helos, the helicopters. They get to the landing zone, you know what they see? Ben Solo, standing there, grinning. Thirty-two men surrounding him, all dead.” He smiled. “Son of a gun cleared that entire LZ all by himself."

"How?"

He looked over at Ben, who still didn’t meet his eye. "By being Ben Solo."

"And his men survived?"

"All of them. Including the idiot officer that got them trapped in the first place."

"If you had to sum up Ben Solo, how would you do it?"

"I would say Ben Solo is a man who would gladly give his life to keep others safe."

"And the crimes he's accused of today? Could the man you knew have committed them?"

"Absolutely not," Snoke said resoundingly. "Lieutenant Ben Solo that I know is a hero. A man who deserves our respect and our gratitude. Not the same man."

"Thank you, sir." Poe nodded his head at Snoke before turning to the Judge. "No more questions, Your Honor."

"People?"

Phasma stood up, walking towards Snoke. "I'd like to personally thank you for your service to this country, Colonel. My father served in Vietnam." She folded her arms. "Do you know what he told me about medals?"

"No, ma'am."

"He said the only people who truly know what happened are the ones that were there." She took a step closer, a smug look on her face. "You told a nice story, Colonel but how can we know that it happened the way you described?"

"Well, perhaps I wasn't clear.” He stared her down. “I was there, ma'am. That officer that didn't listen to Ben, got his men trapped you're looking at him." That smug look on her face vanished and Rey smiled. "And believe me when I tell you, I thank God every day that I only lost half my face. That man saved my life, the lives of his entire team. If it was up to me, he'd have a Medal of Honor hanging around his neck."

Phasma's voice took on irritation. "No further questions at this time, Your Honor." She walked back humiliatingly to her seat, directing her anger at Pauldron. "How'd you miss that in his file?"

"All the names were redacted."

"Do better," she hissed.

×

The room was darkened to accommodate the large screen projector displaying an x-ray.

"The bullet penetrated Mr. Solo's skull in the lower right quadrant, or more specifically, the sphenofrontal suture, which is the cranial suture between the sphenoid bone and the frontal bones.” Dr. Lee pointed to the x-ray. “Both here and here."

Finn turned to the jury. "I believe what my expert witness is trying to convey is that my client, Ben Solo, was shot point blank, execution style, in the head.” He turned back to him. “Could you please describe the damage Mr. Solo sustained from the bullet?" Finn asked.

"It fragmented on impact, causing damage in both the right frontal lobe and temporal lobe of his brain."

“What are the effects of such an injury?"

"Mr. Solo is suffering from what we call sympathetic storming. It's a heightened and ongoing state of fight or flight, in which the sympathetic nervous system is hyperactive. As if he is reliving the incident of trauma over and over again."

"It can plunge a seemingly peaceful individual into mental and emotional chaos."

Ben leaned over to Rey, his voice low. "It sure sounds a lot like PTSD."

She looked at him, shaking her head reassuringly. "No, that's not where we're going. Just listen."

"Could you define it for the jury, please?" Finn continued.

"Extreme emotional disturbance. It's twofold. First, the defendant is so emotionally disturbed that he loses control. And second, the defendant has a reasonable explanation for said disturbance, from his point of view."

"Are you aware that Ben Solo's mother and father were murdered right in front of him when he sustained the brain injury in question? An injury which, you say, keeps him in a perpetual state of mental and emotional chaos?"

He nodded. "I am, yes."

"With that in mind, would you say that Ben Solo's mental state satisfies the definition of "extreme emotional disturbance"?"

Phasma stood up. "Objection, calls for a conclusion."

Finn turned to the Judge. "Your Honor, Dr. Lee is an expert on the brain. He is qualified to an opinion, and said opinion is not only relevant, but imperative to the case."

The Judge glanced at Phasma with raised eyebrows. "Overruled."

"Dr. Lee?"

"Personally, I do believe he is suffering from EED, yes."

"And one who's suffering from extreme emotional disturbance, is it possible to willfully premeditate a crime?"

"Any infractions would be considered crimes of passion."

"How many of your other patients witnessed their families being brutally murdered right in front of them? Other than Ben Solo?"

Dr. Lee glanced at Ben. "He's the only one."

"And so would you say the circumstances surrounding Ben's mental state is different than those of your other patients?"

"I would."

"And what exactly would that difference be, in simple terms?"

He took off his glasses, clasping his hands in front of him with a sigh. "Ben Solo's been through hell."

Finn nodded, holding back a wry smile. "Thank you."

There was a sound in the gallery. A young boy stood up abruptly, his voice echoing through the courtroom as he shouted, "You killed my dad! I don't give a shit what you've been through!"

Ben turned around, his eyes widened as the boy spat in his direction. The guards were already restraining the man from getting close to Ben but the boy struggled against them.

"Order! Order in the court!"

"You killed him!" The boy sobbed loudly, his voice screeching. "I saw him in his coffin. He was my dad, and now he's gone!"

Rey felt her insides shiver at the grief in the boy’s voice. She turned to Ben who looked torn between self-loathing and a hardened mask, devoid of emotion. He locked eyes with her. A fleeting emotion overcoming his features, one that appeared once he saw her reaction.

"Please remove that young man now." The guards dragged him out, the doors snapping shut. The Judge turned to the shocked Jurors. "I'm now instructing each and every one of you to disregard that outburst and to not let it influence your opinions on this case."

×

  
Ben had his hands on the table as Rey sat across him. She said nothing, waiting for him to offer his perspective on what had happened.

"I did that. That kid, I took his father from him." He couldn't even look at her as he spoke. His voice cracking as he added, "I did that."

"Yeah, you did," she said softly. He looked up at her words, as though expecting them. She swallowed as she thought about her words. "Look, Ben, I can't judge you..."

He looked at her carefully. "That was tough in there for you."

"Yeah." She noticed how her answer weighed on him. "You have to do something for me, okay?” She bit the inside of her cheek, shifting in her seat. “I need you to take the stand."

"For what? Why would I – "

"The jury has to know what happened to you, what you go through every single day. After this afternoon... I, I don't think we have any other shot."

"And what do you think is gonna happen here? We're not gonna win this."

"No," she furrowed her brows at his cynicism. "But we can still reduce the charges. Look, that might not be important to you, but it's important to me. All of them, they all think that you're a monster." He looked away and she placed a gentle hand over his. "But I know that you're not. You're not," she whispered.

"You sure about that?" He tilted his head to the side. "What if I find these men that did that to my family? What if nothing changes? What if this is just me now?" His expression was haunted.

"Then don't you deserve to know that too?"

×

Rey raced up the steps to the courthouse. "Finn! He'll do it. He'll take the stand."

He looked at with widened eyes. "Are you serious?"

"Yeah. Look, unless you have a better idea – "

"How did we even get here?" He looked at her with a disturbed look. "This guy's a murderer. He's killed fathers and brothers. You heard that kid. Why are we helping him?"

"Do you think that Ben is completely and totally mentally healthy?"

"I think he's batshit."

"Well, then that's why you help him." She put a hand on his shoulder. "Put him on the stand, Finn."

×

"Counsel, we about ready?"

"Uh, one more moment, Your Honor."

"Did you read the notes from Snoke and Lee?" Poe asked.

"Yeah." Finn shuffled his notes around. "Walk Ben through his story. Connect the dots between the Colonel and the neurologist. We don't have to prove that Ben's version of events is true. We just have to convince the jury that he believes it, and he relives it every day. And then, we can put this guy in the loony bin, where he belongs."

"Counsel?"

Finn stood up. "Yeah. Your Honor, the Defense would like to call Ben Solo to the stand."

The Judge turned to her right. "Bailiff, bring in the defendant, please."

Rey watched in shock as the Bailiff brought in Ben. Who was no longer wearing the orange jumpsuit he usually did, instead he was cleaned up nicely in a crisp white shirt and a black suit. Though he still had the remnants of his bruises and scars, it seemed to enhance his ruggedly good looks. She felt her cheeks heat and shifted in her seat as he locked eyes with her.

"Do you solemnly swear that you will tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help you God?"

"Yeah."

"Please state your name for the record."

"Ben Solo."

Finn stepped forward. "Mr. Solo, you've been charged with multiple capital crimes. Been called a killer incapable of empathy or remorse."

"Yeah. So I hear."

"Ben." Finn paused to look at him. "May I call you Ben?"

Ben looked at him uncomfortably, narrowing his eyes slightly as he answered. "Yeah."

"Ben, we've heard a lot about neuro-chemistry and psychology, and all things unfolding, scientifically and otherwise, inside your brain. But I just have one question I want to ask. What happened that day? The day your family was so tragically killed." There was silence. "It's okay, Ben. I understand, it's difficult."

He tilted his head slightly, his mouth curling as he growled. "Do you? Do you understand? Because I don't think you understand shit."

Finn nodded calmly, turning to the Judge. "I'd like permission to treat the witness as hostile, Your Honor?"

"Granted."

"All right, Ben. You don't want to tell us?" Finn turned to the Jury. "I'll tell you. I'm gonna tell you exactly what kind of man you are. You're the kind of man this city needs. Because, ladies and gentlemen of the jury, we all know this city needs help. Needs it now. Not tomorrow, not next week, not when the day comes, when the corruption is flushed out for good, and the police force is finally back on its feet. We need it now. Because this city's been sick. And the cops, they can't fix it alone, they need We all need men and women who are willing to take the fight themselves. The kind of people who risk their lives so that we can walk safe at night in our own neighborhoods. The ones our esteemed District Attorney here is trying so hard to destroy. New York needs these people. We need heroes. Order. The help they offer and the hope that they provide. Ben Solo wanted to help, but he took it too far. He shot people, he killed people. It's against the law. And he broke that law many, many times. Now, I don't like him any more than you do, but here's the thing, he's not a common criminal. He's not malicious in intent. Ben Solo is actually a good man. He just... He doesn't know the difference between right and wrong anymore. And he doesn't need punishment for that. He needs help. Our help. That's the kind of man Ben Solo is. And now, you have to decide what kind of jury you want to be. No further questions, Your Honor."

Ben's expression was masked as he turned in his seat. "Your Honor? Can I say something?"

"You may."

He looked at Rey. She had brows furrowed like she always did when she was unsure, unlocking some sort of puzzle in that smart mind of hers. But he couldn't help but hear that boy in his head, and the words he had said. And what Rey had said, about him not being a monster. She had too much faith, too much good in her to see that he wasn't who she believed him to be.

"You know those, those people? The ones I put down, the people I killed? I want you to know that I'd do it all again." There were gasps in the gallery. Rey couldn't stop herself as she covered her mouth, her heart thundering as he continued. Finn took several steps back. "This is a circus, all right? It's a charade, it's an act. It's bullshit about how crazy I am."

"Language," the Judge warned.

"I'm not crazy! I'm not crazy. Okay? I know what I did. I know who I am." He looked at Rey. "I'm a monster."

"Bailiff. Remove the witness."

The Bailiff stepped towards Ben, holding him as he resisted against him. Snapping at the Jury as he continued on this fury-filled rage. This was Kylo Ren.

"I'm guilty. I'm guilty! I'll kill every one of them! I'll kill every single one!"

The doors closed with a slam.

Poe turned to Rey, horror injected in his words. "What the fuck just happened?"

×

There was a ring.

Finn pressed the phone to his ear as he entered the office, the morning after the trial. "Rose?"

"I called to give you a heads up. Solo, he's out. He escaped prison."


	11. Factum Fieri Infectum Non Potest

“finding out the truth is only half of it, it’s what you do with it that matters.” – _Tristan Wilds_

×××

Rey pulled up outside the courthouse and stepped out of her car. The area was swarming with press and NYPD was already set up along with several heavily armed cops. She watched as a woman in a grey pantsuit walked up to her.

"Miss Rey?"

"Yeah," she said confusedly.

"Agent Gallagher. Follow me. I'll get you through as quickly as possible."

Rey followed her up the stairs, passing by the armed guards and the press.

"Thank you. Wait here."

She waited, watching as the security quickly scanned her and rummaged through her purse. When they had done their final security checks, she saw Finn waiting for her at the other end. She walked up to him grimly.

"Guess I'm not the only one that got Phasma's invitation." He nodded. "Security's extensive."

"Ben Solo's on the loose. I wouldn't take any chances either."

"I can't believe Ben could have orchestrated an escape that quickly. How's that even possible?"

"Guessing that's what the District Attorney wants to ask us. This case just keeps serving up shit," he muttered.

"Yeah, this whole case has been a disaster," Poe added from behind them. They turned to see he was looking less spritely than usual.

"I'm sorry I pulled you guys into it," she apologised.

"Don't be sorry."

Agent Gallagher walked up to them. "Mr. Walker, Mr. Dameron, Ms Johnson this way."

Rey looked to Poe. "Ben's out, but instead of going after him herself, Phasma is dragging us into the lion's den. What could we possibly know about his escape?"

He sighed. "On paper, we're still Ben Solo's attorneys."

"And I am so proud of that," Finn said sardonically. "If Phasma can find a way to blame us for all this, she will."

"Rey, you spent the most time with him. He say anything? Anything at all that could help us right now?"

She furrowed her brows. "Nothing about an escape."

"I went over Solo's transfer work. He wasn't waltzing into some country club. They were burying him in their highest security control unit with all the other rock stars on cell block D. Maybe he had help?"

The door to the DA's office opened and they were ushered in, stopping any discussion. They looked at Phasma, feeling like they were intruding as they noticed she was no longer wearing her notable stern suits, instead she was in an oversized sweater and sweatpants. Her hair in disarray and she seemed paler than usual.

Phasma gave them an uncomfortable thin smile. "Thank you for coming."

"Kinda hard to say no when the cops pick you up," Poe retorted.

"Well, I'm sorry about that." She waved to the three seats opposite her desk. "Please, have a seat." They looked at her hesitantly. "Please." They sat down slowly.

"I don't know what your play is, lady, but let's cut the shit. You brought us in expecting to sweat privileged information about our client out of us." Finn folded his arms.

"Yes," she said calmly. "If that helps. We have to get Ben Solo off the street before anyone else gets hurt."

Poe scoffed. "You're asking for favors, after all the shit you've pulled? If you want our cooperation, then we need to know what you know all right? All of your cards on the table, right now."

"I've made mistakes."

"Excuse me?"

"Central Park. Solo and his family. I screwed up."

"Ben Solo's family being gunned down is not a mistake, it's a _massacre_ ," Rey said heatedly.

Phasma ran a hand through her hair. "I swear to God, if I had any idea that people might get hurt... I would not have done that."

"Your office were part of it? Why am I not surprised?" Finn muttered.

Rey looked at her with disgust. "They were more than just part of it. It was a sting."

"How do you know that?" Phasma's voice was sharp.

"I've gotten really good at digging up shit people like you want to keep buried."

"Ma'am I think you should just tell them." Pauldron looked uncomfortably towards Phasma.

She let out a shaky breath. "Last year, the DA's office learned there was a new player in the drug trade. Calls himself the Supreme Leader. He wasn't gonna flood the market, he was gonna be the market. And we were tracking kilos, but this guy dealt in metric tons. Volume like that should have made him easy to find, but he was a ghost. No sign of how he was getting the product into the country, where it was coming from, nothing. Then one of the cops we planted deep undercover got word that the Supreme Leader was arranging a meet between three unaffiliated gangs. Dogs of Hell, Kitchen Irish, and the Mexican Cartel. Supreme Leader wanted to broker a deal. They set the meet for Central Park, mid-afternoon. Look, our guys were there. They were ready. But the sting, it just... It went south."

"You didn't clear the park, did you?" Rey asked, but she knew the answer.

"I thought about it. But I decided an empty park could show our hand. So, yes I greenlit the operation civilian traffic and all."

"And it, oh-so-predictably, all went to shit," Poe said.

"The Supreme Leader didn't show. Before we had a chance to move in the gangs got rattled and opened fire on each other. Our undercover was killed and Solo's family..." She ran a hand through her hair. "God damn it."

"So after that horrible decision, you made it worse. You tried to kill him and ruin us to save your own political ass," Finn said. Phasma's face said it all. "You know what, lady, you're on your own." Finn got up from his seat.

"Wait, wait," she said desperately. "This is not about me anymore." She rummaged into a small pink backpack. "I found this in my daughter's backpack before sending her off to school. An X-ray of a skull."

"Solo."

"You know once he gets his sights set on a target, he never stops..." Phasma's voice cracked.

"Where's your daughter now?" Poe asked.

"Upstate New York somewhere, in a location I can never know about, surrounded by men with guns assigned to protect her." Her eyes watered. "My baby girl."

"Ms. Phasma, it's highly unlikely Ben Solo would target your family." Rey offered. "This is hard to understand, but he has his own internal code."

"I'm sorry, am I supposed to trust that?" She cried. "I don't care how much time you spent in an interrogation room with him, Ms. Johnson. He's coming after my child."

"What do you want from us?"

"If he contacts you, just let us know."

"You want us to break privilege."

"I want to make sure that nobody else gets hurt. Look, I know what I've done here. But please. I don't give a shit about my job anymore." She stepped in front of the wall-length windows. "I just wanna keep my family safe."

The bullets scattered through the room. Everyone hit the floor as soon as they could, the glass shards spraying over them. Screams piercing the air alongside the gunfire. It felt like an hour before it stopped abruptly.

Silence.

Phasma's body lied still over her desk.

Rey looked up slowly. Poe was reaching out, barely holding onto her. Her eyes turned towards Finn, who was unconscious on the floor. A pool of blood beneath him.

She screamed.


	12. Lex Talionis

"I spent nights looking at Ben Solo's crime scenes." Pauldron spoke monotonously from the shock. "They look so different from the inside."

"You knew about Phasma and the cover-up the whole time," Rey accused.

"I suspected." Rey scoffed at his correction. "But the cover-up was well underway before I started at the DA's office. But you still don't get it, do you? If it came out that civilians were killed on her watch a war hero, no less her career would have been over."

"Pauldron, she's dead now."

He looked away painfully, her word piercing the barrier of his shock. He hung his head. "She was altering medical records, police reports. Getting sloppier every time. She was covering her tracks, but the trail just kept spreading wider. And when I caught wind of it, my hands were tied. It was it was just too late. But I couldn't let myself go down with her."

"So you slipped me the X-ray." He nodded. "Phasma ordered the DNR on Solo?"

"His family was gone. Solo was hanging by a thread. She just, she just wanted the problem to go away."

"Well, it didn't. Solo didn't die."

He swallowed hard. "I'm leaving New York for a while. I'd tell you to do the same."

Rey nodded slowly. She watched as he walked away, wondering whether she was crazy for staying. But there was too much here, things that needed to be dealt with – and she had no fucking clue where she would go.

She turned to Finn, who was being wheeled into the back of an ambulance. The bullet had gone through him and into his back. "How bad is it?"

His voice was drowsy. "They're gonna take some X-rays, just in case."

"We'll come."

Poe started to step forward, but Finn stopped him. "No, that's okay. Really, I'm good alone."

"Are you sure?" Rey asked quietly.

He nodded, smiling grimly. "Do me a favor. Watch your backs."

They smiled each other, letting out a small laugh before saying their good-byes to Finn as the EMTs set him inside the ambulance and gave him oxygen. Rey waved one last time, watching as the closed the doors.

"If Solo's killing people who crossed him, who's next?" Poe asked.

"Allegedly."

Poe turned to her with narrowed eyes. "Sorry, I thought you just said that the person who just shot at us, at Finn and killed the DA wasn't Ben Solo."

"I said it before, he, he has a code."

"Rey. You can't be serious."

She clenched her jaw, biting the inside of her cheek. "Fine, if I had to guess... The ME, Kynnovan and there's others."

"You have a file?"

"At my apartment."

He nodded. "We'll need that."

She started to walk, heading towards her car. She noticed the two cops that followed her, she turned back to see them stop when she did. The officers simply stared at her and she narrowed her eyes at Poe.

"Uh, Poe. What's this?"

"Oh, well, they're, um they're going with you."

Are you serious?"

"Yeah. I had one last string to pull, so don't screw it up, okay?"

"No, Ben's not gonna hurt me.

"Ben's a killer.

"I can take care of myself.

"You're right. But Finn's got a bullet lodge in his back, okay?" She had never seen Poe looked this terrified in the years she'd known him. "I can't, I can't take that risk."

She regretted arguing with him. "Okay."

"Go, go, go. Get the files. Meet me back at the office in an hour."

"Yeah. I'll be there."

×

She stood outside the door of her apartment as the officers, opened up her door, their guns in hand as they stepped inside and swept the room. She bit the inside of her cheek anxiously as she waited, hearing them opening her closet and searching the bathroom.

"Clear. You can come inside, Miss Johnson."

She flicked on the lights, putting down her purse near the door and headed over to the coffee table. She heard the officers leave her to collect the files, half-closing the door behind them. She ruffled through and found the file she needed, she hurried her step over to her bed where she had more files and quickly gathered them.

There was a slumping sound in the hallway.

"Officers?" She tensed in the resounding silence. Hello?"

At the silence she felt her heartbeat thunder. Without a second thought she silently opened the second drawer of her bedside cabinet and drew her gun. She aimed it at the door as she slowly made her way to it, but at the sight of a familiar figure stepping through the door she stopped.

"Hands on your head, Ben." His hands were already raised but she knew better. She cocked the gun threateningly. "I mean it."

"It wasn't me," he said lowly. He continued to make his way to her.

"Hands on your head or I will unload this thing, I swear to Christ!"

"It wasn't me."

She took several steps forward menacingly and he stopped moving towards her. "Do it."

He pulled his hands up slowly, holding them carefully behind his head. Seeing him up close she could see the countless bruises and cuts on his face, all new. His eyes turned sharply to her windows and she followed his gaze. He ran at her. There was an explosion of gunfire, the bullets piercing through her apartment in quickfire. He caught the pistol in her hand and tossed it aside as he grabbed her and threw her down to the ground. They tore through her bed, glass shattering everywhere.

He had his body over hers, protecting her from it all. His hands covered her head and she felt her fingers gripping onto him, like he was her lifeline. The one thing racing through her mind was fear, not of him but of the shooter targeting her. But it wasn't _him_.

"They were too close, his body still over hers. His hand slid up her neck, his fingers half in her hair and his eyes were over her body, searching for a bullet wound.

"Are you okay?"

She nodded as she breathlessly answered. "Yeah."

He got up slowly, disentangling himself as he did, a hand gently holding her shoulder to keep her down as he checked the windows. "You believe me now?"

"I believe you."

When he was satisfied that the shooter was no longer a threat, he waited for her to make a run for the hallway, a hand on her head to remind her to keep it down as she went. When she was safe, he bolted after her.

She leaned against the wall in the hallway, trying to calm herself down. Ben was on the opposite side of the hallway, half-slumped as he shifted his weight. Her eyes caught the blood that dripped down the side of his face and painted the wall as he moved, she stepped forward.

"Ben..."

He looked at her, following her gaze to his arm. A bullet had clipped his arm and a shard of glass had sliced his temple when he gone down with her. Blood trickled down his neck.

She reached out, examining his arm, her heart racing at what he had done for her. He had risked his life. He stared at her, and the closeness at which they were standing. She looked up at him, her hand going to move to his ear before moving back down to settle on his arm. He had a look on his face, like he couldn't understand her and yet something within his eyes made her feel so exposed.

"You gotta get out of here." She bit her lip as took a step back.

He started to put his hand back where it had been earlier, half on her neck and half in her hair. But before she could she shook her head.

"I'm okay, go."

He left. Police sirens were wailing in the distance and she could hear children crying from above. The ringing of the bullets still buzzing in her ears, the horrifying idea of being pierced by them still in her mind.

She stared at the blood trail on the wall.

It wasn't him.

×

Poe hugged her as soon as she stepped out of the precinct. "Someone shot at you?"

"Yeah it's, it's okay. I'm fine."

"Why didn't you call me?" He asked incredulously as he held her at arm's length.

She shook off his hold. "Look, Poe, I know that you mean well, but I can take care of myself."

"No, you can't, Rey! Not if Ben Solo wants you dead. No one can."

"You're right! You're right! Ben's dangerous, and maybe I can't handle this, but I don't want your help."

"What's going on with you?" He looked at her with a perplexed expression. "What are you holding back?"

She looked at him guiltily. Seeing the concern in his expression, how much he cared about her. "Ben didn't do this, okay? Matter of fact, he saved me."

"What?"

"He was at my apartment last night. And if he hadn't been watching the place, I'd be dead." She sighed at his expression. "The police have it all wrong. Ben didn't kill Phasma. But whoever did knew that Ben would take the blame, and what do you know, every officer in New York City wants his head on a stick."

"You told this to the police?"

She fidgeted. "No."

"Great! Lying to the cops. Smart, Rey."

"But that's my problem, not yours. Ben thinks he can find this guy faster than the NYPD, and, honestly, I agree with him. He saved my life and he asked me for time. I, I owe him that much."

"Not saying I'm going along with this, but if Solo's not the shooter, who is?"

"Everything points back to the Central Park sting. That's where everything fell apart. What Phasma mentioned. This Supreme Leader? Ben has a source in prison. Turns out the DA was right, that the Supreme Leader arranged the meet."

"Why would the Supreme Leader come after you?"

"I've been working with Maz at the Bulletin."

Poe snapped his fingers, an infuriated look on his face. "Yep. Yeah, that'll be it. When did this start?"

She shifted under his scrutiny. "Ever since the trial. When I was trying to find evidence for the case. We were looking into the Central Park shootings, and I guess we're getting too close."

"Then you need to back off."

She folded her arms. "No, Poe."

"You need to back off! This is not a game, Rey. This is dangerous."

"Right, well, so was working at Dameron and Walker. You didn't seem to care when we were pissing off the neighbourhood gangs." She bit her tongue, raising her hands in surrender as she sighed. "The police offered me protection and I'm taking it. So you don't have to worry."

Rey walked away.


	13. Lux In Tenebris Lucet

“you cannot stand in the light while sheltering in darkness.” – _Unknown_

×××

Ben pulled up in her car when she had managed to get past the officers that were keeping her safe in the hotel room. 

They still thought that Ben was targeting her. That he was a threat to her. It unsettled her, disturbed her in some way to even think that. That the man who had saved her was being painted as a monster. In fact, it angered her. But it also made her realise the gravity of the situation she had put herself in. It made her think about what Poe had told her outside the precinct.

He was dressed in black, with a cap that managed to hide his bruised face. She scoffed, shaking her head as she got in. She folded her arms as she sat in the passenger seat of her deadbeat car.

He turned to her, noticing her reluctance. "Maybe you don't wanna be here?"

Her voice was bitter. "I'm having second thoughts.” He said nothing so she continued. “I'm not a lawyer. I'm not protected by attorney-client privilege. Lying to the police, that makes me an accessory."

"Okay,” he said gently. “So, walk away."

She didn't move. "This Supreme Leader already tried to get me once. I really don't want to give him a second chance."

He turned back to the road, a certain seriousness in his demeanour as he told her, "He's not gonna get another one."

The drove in silence. She tried to keep herself away from the windows as much as she could, wary of the rooftops of the buildings they passed by. It seemed at every road there were endless possibilities in which someone could successfully shoot at her. If she wasn't so caught up in the many ways she could die, she would've spent majority of the ride staring at the black sky.

It was only when the car slowed to a stop at a diner that she realised the gravity of the situation she was in. She was in her car, being driven by a convicted murderer who escaped prison.

"Not so sure stopping is such a good idea."

"You're not hungry?"

"No, not really." Fear and paranoia had replaced her appetite. "You don't think they'll find us here?"

"You scared?"

She narrowed her eyes. "You're not?"

"Oh, yeah." His tone was light. "I'm shaking in my boots."

They walked into the diner; Ben’s black cap seemed to shadow his face as he slid into the booth. She sat opposite him. A waitress came by and poured them each a coffee without a second glance.

“Can I get you anything?”

“Just keep the coffee coming please,” he said politely.

She nodded and walked off.

Rey set her hands on the table, looking over him. "Where did you get those bruises?"

"Anything new from the cops?" He asked, sipping on his coffee, blatantly ignoring her question.

"Is that how you got out? Helped someone on the inside for an out?" He clenched his jaw, turning to the window. She let out a breath, half-scoffing as she looked away. She got her answer. "The police want you dead."

"Yeah. How about that DA? She have anything on the Supreme Leader?"

"Only that he's moving an unprecedented volume of uncut narcotics into Manhattan."

"How's he doing it?"

"Well, that'd be the mystery." She nodded before leaning in closer. "Okay, look, there's an unfinished highway on Long Island that was illegally used as a landing strip in the nineties. I mean, it would require payoffs, bribes..."

Ben shook his head. "This guy's a ghost. He works alone or close to it."

She looked at him questioningly. "How do you know?"

He shrugged. "I just do."

"Okay, so, what, that leaves us with railroads, shipping lines, trucks, maybe?" He half-shrugged and looked outside.

There was a long silence.

"You didn't seem surprised that I owned a gun."

He chuckled. "I guess the only thing that surprised me is that you didn't shoot me." He tilted his head. "You pick it out yourself?"

"Why?"

"People who don't know shit about guns usually go for something shiny. You know, something with a with a fancy grip. There's always the asshole who gets the big hand cannon that kicks like a mule and they're too afraid to use it. But a three-eighty shows thought." He narrowed his eyes slightly with a tug of a smile. "Maybe it's not your first rodeo."

"Maybe it isn't." She smiled wryly. There was a beat of silence as she took in his expression. How it warmed so gracefully with a smile. With a playful tone she added, "Almost took the shot."

He laughed this time, the deep rumble of it warming her. "And can I ask you why you didn't?"

She debated not answering him, but his gaze was overwhelmingly curious. "Because I believe you." His expression sobered at her candor. "I don't like what you do. And ultimately, I think you probably belong in jail. But you're honest. You don't try to be something you're not."

There was a moment of silence.

"Does he?"

"Who?"

"The lawyer. Dameron."

She wondered how he had known, despite never seeing them beyond a professional capacity. "Poe?" She shook her head. "No, no."

"Is he good to you?"

Rey met his questioning gaze with surprise. Did he... Did he care? She looked away, uncomfortable. "He's not the problem." 

He watched her, waiting for her to continue.

"I'm not used to people caring. About me. I didn’t exactly grow up in a... Loving home," she said quietly. At his silence and her depressed tone, she let out a scoff. "I’m not used to being needed or _wanted_. I've always just been on my own."

He rubbed his hand over his fist. "Look, you have people Rey." Her insides warmed at the sound of her name on his lips. He said it, so delicately. "People that care about you, need you. You have something good here. Yeah, it's complicated. But that's how you know it's real. Life ain't easy.” He shook his head with a sad smile. “Why do you think I left for the Marines? I was tired of my old man's shit." He sighed. "And now? Shit, I'd do just about anything to have one more argument with him again." He locked eyes with her. "You're all confused about this thing, but you have it. You have it. So, hold on to it. Use two hands and never let go."

She nodded. A long silence following his words and there was an intimacy in the vulnerability they shared.

Someone dropped a fork in the diner, and Rey couldn't help but flinch violently at the sound. Ben looked behind her before returning to her and then furrowed his brow, his expression turning into something she couldn't recognize.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly when she calmed down. She gave him a curious look and before she could ask, he answered. "I dragged you into this shit. He's after you because of me."

"He's after me because I was getting too close."

"I shouldn't have let you get caught up in this. I, I didn't protect them... But you have my word, I'll keep you safe."

Rey felt lost in the tenderness and the comfort she found in his eyes, his words – him. It wasn't because of what he offered, and she didn't doubt he could do good on his word. He already had, back at her apartment. But it was what it meant for him to say that to her.

She stretched out her hand, holding onto his gently. "I will find who did this to you, Ben. I promise."

He looked at her like no one done before, enraptured by her words. It was exhilarating in a way she couldn't understand, like there was electricity coursing through her. She realised a moment too late that she had been holding on too long, pulling away awkwardly and clearing her throat.

He shifted his gaze from her, looking outside before freezing in his seat. "You need to go in the back and get the waitress. You tell the cook and anyone else who's back there to find the biggest piece of stainless steel and you get under it. Go now."

She looked out the window, slowly standing up. "What's happening?"

"The Buick. It rolled around the block three times before it pulled up." He got up and he directed her towards the back.

"Who are they?"

"Just some guys who are about to walk into a diner for the last time."

She turned around, stuttering furiously. "W-wait, you, you wanted them here. You parked me outside like bait."

He wasn't apologetic as he said, "You need to go."

"You're such an arsehole."

"Yeah," he said unenthusiastically as he sat back down into the booth. "You got that right."

Two men walked into the diner, the bell jangling as the door opened. Ben placed his cap down on the table. The turned to him, heading slowly in his direction, both of them holding something lowly behind them.

Ben shot the gun from beneath the table, the first man dropping against the counter. He pulled the gun up from the table shooting several times at the second man before turning to the first man and knocking the gun against his hard. He quickly ran towards the second man, who managed to pull his arm up painfully, but he countered by pushing the man's gun away from himself. He butted his head against the man's who staggered backwards. He advanced, pulling the gun from the man’s hand and elbowing his neck before grabbing his head and smashing it against the counter. The man grabbed hold of a knife and swung at Ben's torso. He took a step back, evading the swing and reached for a plate and shattered it against the man's head and took hold of the knife. He advanced again, stabbing into him several times, pushing him back and hearing the man's groans as Ben threw him onto the floor.

Ben walked over to the first man, searching him and disassembling his gun. He dragged his now conscious body and pulled it up against the seat of a booth. He turned back to the second man, seeing the blood trails that he left behind as he helplessly crawled towards his gun. He reached out to grab the gun, but Ben picked it up.

He pointed it at the first man. "The Supreme Leader. Where is he?"

"Screw you." The man spat blood onto him.

"Where?" Ben tried again.

"Go to hell."

Ben turned the gun onto the second man who was crying. He shot him, watching the blood spray everywhere before turning back to the first man. It seemed to have some effect as he desperately tried to escape. But Ben grabbed the collar of his shirt, punching his face until it was almost split open.

"Okay," the man whimpered incoherently. "Okay!"

"I want a place."

"Forty-first Street. The pier." He raised his shaking palms at the gun Ben had pointed at him. "I can take you."

He shot him.

When the silence seemed to be endless, Rey got up from beneath the kitchen counter. Her hand covering her mouth to silence the whimpers that threatened to overwhelm her. She stood up slowly, her body shaking as she saw Ben sprayed with blood and bruises. She pushed the door into the diner and held back another sob at the sight of the men.

"Ben..."

He couldn't even look at her. The gun was placed on the table and he stood over the dead bodies for a moment to tell her one last thing.

"You need to call the police, get protective custody. Get away from this thing." She glanced at the mutilated bodies again before tearing her eyes away, a sob escaping her. "Get away from _me_." She bit her lip to push back the emotions, but the images were seared into her. "Just stay away from me," he whispered.

He left the diner.

It took several moments before she could pull herself together to call the precinct. The back of her hand wiping away beneath her nose and closing her eyes to stop seeing the blood. So much blood. She took a shaky breath, her hand dialling nine-one-one.

_"Nine-one-one, what is your emergency?_

"Hello, yes... Connect me to the fifteenth Precinct, please."

×

It had taken an hour for her to be questioned and her statement to be taken. She had lied of course. She had no interest in being arrested for being an accessory and Ben's words had become clear as she gave her statement. Rose was sympathetic, but Rey didn't need her sympathies. She had gone beyond shock and beyond the images of the bodies that Ben seemed to leave in his wake. Like it was all there at the tip of her tongue and yet so numbingly far from her reach.

When she was close to being released, Rose received a call. She stepped away to talk to someone and returned hurriedly.

"Rey? You said Solo was going where?"

She looked at her Rose's concerned face, confusedly. "I- Uh, the pier. Forty-first street. Why?"

Rose nodded, her concern still etched onto her face as she led Rey to her car. "Get in."

Rey got in without another word. Sitting in the passenger seat of the car with her mind racing as Rose sped out of the diner parking lot and headed back onto the road. She listened as Rose spoke to another officer on the radio.

"Central to Fifteenth Squad Sergeant, ten-twenty."

"Fifteenth Squad Sergeant to Central, ten-seventy-six." Rose responded.

When they were reaching forty-first street, they could see the orange glimmer of fire. The smoke curling up into the dark sky.

Rey turned to Rose with widened eyes. Her heart thundering. He couldn't be dead. She couldn't believe it. She had been with him just an hour ago, he couldn't be...

"What happened?" She asked desperately.

"Reports of an explosion of a boat on the pier, they've found heroin. No survivors. Bodies haven't been identified, but it looks like we've got him." Rose glanced over at a stricken Rey. "We got him, Rey."

The sentence was meant to comfort her but instead it fed her denial. Rey bit her lip and closed her eyes to hold back her tears. It wasn't true. She would know, she would be able to feel it. She swallowed her emotions back, composing herself. Rose took it as a sign of relief and looked back to the road.

The car pulled over. Rey opened up the door hurriedly, walking forward onto the pier. The boat still in flames with bloody and burnt bodies scattered around.

"Be careful, Rey."

Her step stopped as her eyes fell onto a disfigured body. But she could make out his face through the soot, a thirty-somewhat, ginger-haired man.

Rose's attention turned to the other officer. "Cover these bodies." She reached Rey. "Solo said he was coming here? You sure?"

Rey swallowed, a hand over her mouth as she nodded.

"Fifteenth Squad Sergeant to Central. Pier eighty-one on four-one street. I need FD and ambulances forthwith and notify Harbor to respond. And Narcotics." Rose seemed to have overlooked the horror of the scene around them as she added with a pleased tone to Rey, "This could be the largest heroin seizure in years."

It exploded again, the flames erupting sky-high, sputtering wreckage furiously. Rey raised her arms instinctually, defending against the sputter of fire that never touched her. There were shouts from the officers, but eventually the pier quieted down to the sound of fire crackling again.

Rey took several steps towards the boat.

"Ben," she whispered through the tears. "Why?"


	14. Non Ducor Duco

“in violence we forget who we are.” – _Mary McCarthy_

×××

"Also, I know that the fingerprints were probably burned, but let's get some prints taken anyways." Rose turned back to Rey. "You know you can go home now, right?"

She had stayed, all through the night and well into the morning. There was no reason other than the fact that Rey needed to know that the burnt bodies weren’t his. Even though they were practically unidentifiable.

She needed to know.

"Uh, yeah." She nodded, awkwardly folding her arms. "You don't need anything else?"

"I have your statement. If I have any more questions, I can track you down. Seriously, go home. Get some sleep. And don't worry that so-called "police protection" I gave you? They're crossing guards in Yonkers now."

"What?” Rey asked quickly. “No. No, no, really. There's nothing they could do. It wasn't their fault. Ben – Solo followed me. He kidnapped me."

"Well, thank Christ you managed to get away.” Rose looked at the body bags around them. “Not many people can say that about Kylo Ren." She saw the apprehension in Rey's face. "Look I know what you're thinking. Maybe Solo survived. Maybe he's still out there. He's not."

"How can you be sure? You ID him yet?"

"There's twenty burned bodies. It takes time."

"So there's a chance."

"You saw the same explosion I did. You're safe, Rey. That nightmare you've been living... It's over. Ben Solo's a dead man."

Rey solemnly nodded.

"Thompson!" Rose called another officer. "Get her a lift. Wherever she wants to go." She turned back to Rey seriously. "Get out of here, Rey."

×

"The third time you've been in Ben Solo's crosshairs and escaped?" Maz asked curiously as she entered the new office Rey was in.

Rey wiped at her face, removing the tears as she fumbled with files. "Just lucky, I guess."

"Yes, we both know better than that but just in case I'm deposed one day, we'll say you're the luckiest girl on the planet." Rey gave a blank nod. "How's the story coming?"

"There isn't one."

Maz blinked several times. "What?"

"Everyone is dead. Phasma, the Supreme Leader, Ben… Solo. They're all dead." Her heart ached at his name. "So anyone who was involved in the cover-up, or hurt by it, is gone. There’s, there's no reason to write it."

"So what am I supposed to fill Sunday's paper with?"

Rey laughed expressionlessly and threw up her hands. "Crossword puzzles."

"I understand that journalism is new to you, child. But a real journalist doesn't just quit when it's hard."

She stared at Maz with red-rimmed eyes. "That's unfair."

"It is. Stories don't disappear, they change. They become different stories."

"Change?" She sighed, shaking her head and remembering Rose's words. "I'm exhausted. I need to go home. I need a shower. I need to eat, I need to sleep – "

"Why do you care so much about Ben Solo? Hmm? I mean, maybe this was about whether or not he was innocent or not. But it's all over now.” She stepped closer, and Rey hoped she couldn’t see the fresh tears that sprung to her eyes. “So why do you still care?"

"Because he is not a psycho murderer!" She said angrily. She froze at the realization. Her voice small as she corrected herself. "He wasn't a psycho murderer."

"He killed more than thirty people," Maz asked. "That doesn't make him a psycho murderer?"

"His family was gunned down in front of his face,” she explained thickly. “Now, what he did was wrong but _no one_ , including your paper, ever mentioned the fact that he was grieving, looking for answers, and you, more than anyone, should understand why that matters to me."

Her parents. Her search for her parents for all that time. And all to find that they had died a year before she came to New York. It felt like a wound had reopened in her and she didn’t know how to close it up again.

"So you're saying there's more to him."

"Yes," she whispered painfully.

"Then there's a story after all."

Rey blinked at her several times. "So, what? So, it's not it's not an exposé anymore, it's a profile?"

"Which means I need more sources." Maz folded her arms.

"Like personal contacts. Like someone who knew him outside the trial?"

Maz glanced at her watch. "Tick-tock, tick-tock. Sunday's coming."

Rey thought about it. Then thought about it again. They needed to see Ben, not as Kylo Ren. But to see him as she did. They needed the truth.

"I might be able to get someone."

She went to pick up her files but Maz interrupted her. "Just leave it. It's time to face the truth, Rey Johnson. This is your home now."

×

She knocked on the ajar door of the ward. "Hey." She stepped inside to see Finn on a hospital bed, Poe on the seat beside him. "It's really over? Dameron and Walker?"

"Yeah," Poe sighed.

Finn blinked several times, before his eyes landed on her. "Rey?"

"Hey Finn," she said softly. She stood beside his bed, feeling comfort as his warm hands held onto her cold ones. "Look, Finn I'm sorry I never made it to the hospital earlier. It's been a crazy couple of days."

"I heard," he said wearily. A smile graced his lips. "Rose came by, though."

"Yeah?"

"I think she really likes me." Rey smiled softly at the glow that radiated from him as he said the words. "And, some of the higher-ups at Hogarth and Benowitz firm were impressed with my opening argument in the Solo case. They spoke to Poe already and they made us an offer. We're going to take it. Once I'm healed of course."

"You should," she smiled, squeezing his hand. "You deserve to be happy. Both of you."

"So do you," Poe said before Finn could. Standing up as he wrung his hands. "You're going to be a great journalist, Rey Johnson."

She smiled sadly at him, seeing the longing in his eyes. She wished that things could've been different between them. But she couldn't stop thinking about Ben, the electricity she felt between them as he threaded his hands in her hair.

She hugged Poe gently, her hand squeezing onto Finn's. The tears already running down her cheeks. "Thank you," she whispered to them. "For everything."

×

"Thank you for seeing me so late. I hope I'm not disturbing you." She shook her hands with Snoke. He took her things and laid them on a chair in his office.

"Oh, no, no, no. That's okay." He smiled. "I'm glad you're writing this article about Solo. The real Solo."

"Well, that's the goal. To show people that Mr. Solo wasn't just... this killer."

"Right," he nodded. He paused for a moment before asking, "How is it a lawyer is writing for a newspaper?"

"Uh, no. I was a legal assistant."

"Past tense?"

"Turns out, I have a knack for this."

He raised his brow. "Oh, I see."

Rey's eyes were on the decorated wall of photos, that were warmly lit by the lamps. She could already spot Ben in them, alongside the rest of his marine squad members. She recognized a few from the frames in his home.

"Uh, may I?" She pointed towards the photos.

"Oh, yes, of course.” He smiled. “That's what they're there for."

"Thanks." She walked up to them, a small smile playing on her lips at the sight of a grinning Ben. There were several more, some more playful and some serious. "During the trial, you talked aloud about Mr. Solo as a Marine. You're the only person I can find that has anything kind at all to say about him. So I guess my question is, did you like him?"

Snoke looked caught off-guard as he repeated, "Like him?"

"Well, like, um as a man? As a a friend?"

He laughed. "You know, it's funny. When you're fighting a war, you don't really make friends. At least, not if you're fighting it the right way. I suppose you don't want to get close to anyone, because, hey, you're not all coming back. But at the same time, you have to feel something, don't you? Otherwise, what are you all fighting for?" He glanced at her, as though remembering her question. "I remember Ben used to do impressions."

"Impressions?" She asked curiously, a smile on her lips.

"Yes."

"Of, famous people?"

"Uh, well, I only ever saw him do me, but he had a knack for it, really. A sixth sense about ticks and subconscious behaviors, and the way a brain works. It was spot-on, really. Unnerving, the way he could look into a person's soul."

She laughed softly. "I think I know what you mean."

"Well wherever Ben is now, I hope he finds that better part of himself again."

"Uh, Colonel did you happen to catch the news last night?" He looked at her curiously. "There was a shipyard explosion."

"Yes, I think I did hear something about that. A drug deal gone south or something?"

"Well, just between you and me, the NYPD's keeping things under wraps until the investigation is complete. But Ben was involved."

Snoke sighed, hanging his head. "Oh. I see."

"He was on the ship when it went up."

He looked concerned. "Police are sure?"

"Uh, well, they don't have an ID yet, but..." She shook her head, turning away from Snoke to face the wall of photos behind her. "Sorry, I was at the docks all night, into the morning, watching them just pull bodies out of the water, and there's no way anyone could've..."

Her words silenced in her mouth at the sight of a ginger-haired man, bandaged up but unmistakeably familiar, behind him stood Ben and Snoke. It was the dead man on the pier.

Snoke spoke up from behind her, recognizing the photo she was staring at. "After a war, some men turn their backs on you. They want to forget. Not Hux." She turned her head back, her mind racing at the connections. "No. He took the worst part of an IED on a recon, north of Kabul. Left half his leg on a dirt road. Spent the better part of a year in a hospital but that kid never gave up. Never gave in."

She turned around, trying to keep herself calm and composed as she faced him. But her heart was thundering in her ears.

"It's late," she said quietly. "I'll get out of your hair. I think I have everything that I need." She headed over to the chair where her coat was hung over, putting it on and grabbing her purse, stuffing her notepad and pen inside.

"Once he got out, he tracked me down," Snoke continued. "Asked me how he could serve me again. That boy was the definition of "loyal." Or was." There was a click of a gun behind her. "Before Ben Solo murdered him."

Her breath was heavy as she slowly turned around. The gun aimed at her precisely. "Colonel, please. I just, I just think I should go."

"I'll walk you out," he said in an unnervingly calm tone.

He pointed towards the door with his gun and she obeyed. He followed behind her as she went towards her car, her eyes on the surrounding woods. It would be stupid to even try and run.

"Listen I won't write anything. I won't write the story. Look, no one will be suspicious, I'm not even a real reporter," she whispered.

"Get in the car."

She pulled the keys from her purse unlocking it and got into the driver's seat from the passenger seat. He wasn't going to make any mistakes in letting her go.

"Start the car," he said once he was inside. The gun pointed on the side of her abdomen.

She pulled on her seatbelt. "Where are we going?"

"Start the goddamn car," he sneered, raising the gun to her face. She swallowed, turning the key in the ignition. "Keep your hands on the wheel. Start driving." She started driving. "Could've been smart. Could've let the story go down with that boat. "The real Solo." Like you cared about him." SHe watched the road, searching for an out. "Pull over here. Pull over."

She looked to the side to see a car racing down the road they were passing. The last thing she saw were the blinding headlights before she fell into the darkness.

×

Rey wasn’t wanted as a child. Plutt liked to remind her of it. Whenever she would fall behind the immense weight of her chores, he would tell her how he had done her a favour. Taken her up from the foster home in Peckham and raised her in Florida, out of the goodness of his heart.

She hated him. She didn’t think she could hate anything more than she hated him. But she didn’t know. She didn’t know how much worse her life would get.

She was nine when he force her to pick pockets, twelve when he started using her to break into houses. She was small enough to get in through open windows, flaps in doors and worst of all she would pick-lock. And she was good at it.

It started to get easier. The nausea faded and the guilt withered away with each crime. It almost became… Normal.

Rey was nineteen when she had come home to find Plutt and his friends in the living room, stacks of white on the table. She wasn’t supposed to see this, she had realised. The expressions on their faces were grave as they looked over her. One pulled out a gun.

Her heart stopped.

Plutt defended her, somehow convincing them that she was no threat. That, in fact, she could spread their product. They seemed unconvinced. They asked him to meet them in a warehouse across the town with the product, they’d broker a deal there. And if she was going to be dealing, she needed to be there too.

Rey couldn’t breathe.

His friends left and she was left numb as Plutt dug his fingers into her arm and dragged her outside. He filled up his trunk with the stashes and told her to get in the car. She stared at the open driver door, ignoring his incessant shouting. Her eyes locked with the glint of a handgun.

His shouting downed her. It was only when he brought up her parents, that her knuckles whitened. He told her how pathetic they were, drugged up nobodies that had tossed her aside because who would miss her.

She reached for the gun, feeling the cool metal around her fingers as she aimed it at him.

He laughed. Instead of cowering in fear like she thought he would, he began spouting things about how weak she was. Weak… Like her parents.

Her teeth ground together, jaw clenched and her grip on the gun was too tight. Anger coursed through her, pain and neglect all piling on her into one single second.

She pulled the trigger.

He fell to the ground with a slump, blood pooling around him.

The gun fell to the floor with a clatter.

She swallowed back the scream that tried to claw out of her. Instead she ran back to her car, struggling with her keys and starting it up. She drove, blurry eyes through the dark streets. Her crying filling up the void that had grown inside her like a tumour.

A wall.

She was heading for a wall.

She was going too fast to stop.

The last thing she heard was metal crumpling against a concrete wall.

×

She woke with a piercing headache. Her body weighing heavy and aching as she tumbled out of the car door. The seatbelt snapping back inside when she rolled over. She groaned in agony, clutching her right arm. Her hand came to her temple and when she looked at her fingertips. Blood.

She pulled herself up, her hand still clutching onto her arm as she looked around, trying to piece what had happened. She walked around the front of the car, seeing the empty space of the passenger seat and the opened door. She walked towards the car that crashed into her, seeing that it was also empty. She looked down at the ground, her eyes following the heavy trail of blood into the woods.

Her heart thumped. She knew it, she knew he wasn't with the rest of those bodies on the pier. That he was still alive, looking out for her.

"Ben," she breathed.

She followed the trail, hearing voices as she neared the end of it.

"You should be at the bottom of the Hudson. Losing a hundred million in heroin would've been worth it to take you down. But here we are." Snoke was pulling himself along the ground. "You could've been part of it, like Hux. You could've been rich. And maybe you could've taken your family to the Bahamas instead of Central Park. You think this all of this is about a bad drug deal? That's what you see. You're losing your touch, Ben. Your family, at the park? No. That's never what this has been about..." He laughed viciously. "It's about what happened with us. In Kandahar." He tilted his head at Ben's expression. "You think they would ever let that go?"

Rey stepped forward. "Ben, stop. You don't have to kill him."

"Go back to the car," he said gruffly, not looking at her.

She stepped closer, her voice becoming more desperate. "What's he talking about? Kandahar, what... What happened?"

He turned to her. "Go."

"Did you do something?" She asked desperately. Her heart pounding and her head light from the accident. "Just tell me. Tell me the truth. I promised I would find who did this to you. Okay? So tell me and I'll help you. I'll help you figure it out. Just tell me the truth."

Snoke laughed at her. "Yeah. Tell her the truth, Solo."

"Tell me for Leia. Tell me for Han."

"Tell her what you did," Snoke sneered.

"Shut up!" Rey said angrily to Snoke. She took an uneven breath as she stared at Ben. "What happened? Please, we'll figure it out, but if you kill him, you will never know!"

Ben looked at her with tears in his eyes. Guilt mixed with fear.

She couldn't understand.

He walked over to Snoke, who had propped himself against a tree. He grabbed his collar and began dragging him towards a shed.

"No, no, no." She took several desperate steps forward. "Ben! Listen to me. Ben! Don't do this. Please, don't go this way. Because if you do this, then you are the monster that they say you are." Ben had managed to drag Snoke inside, the lights flicked on to outline his silhouette. He stopped at the door, so she could still see him. "Do you hear me? You do this, and I am done. That's it. _You're dead to me_. Do you hear me?"

There was a long silence.

"I'm already dead."

The door shut.

She stared at the wooden door. His words echoing in her ears. Rey turned, walking away dejectedly. Her body shivering and shaking from either the cold or the shock, she wasn't sure anymore. She found her way back towards her car. Her steps as uneven as her breath and when she heard the gunshot rip through the air, she felt the world stop.

She stared at the headlights. Her vision blurring as the tears fell, a whimper of a sob passing her lips. She took a few more steps before kneeling down onto the road. Letting herself break.

_I'm already dead._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> how you feelin?


	15. Aut Viam Inveniam Aut Faciam

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took so long but here it is :))

“even though we never said it to each other, we knew.” – _Unknown_

×××

Rey stared at the blinking line on her screen.

"Rey Johnson, what the hell are you still doing here? It's Christmas Eve. Shouldn't you be home celebrating?"

She had gotten so used to being alone all those years, only in the past couple years she had truly experienced Christmas with Finn and Poe. But... Dameron and Walker had fallen through a couple months ago. They had ran bone-dry trying to protect the helpless of Hell's Kitchen. And now she was here, a scarred journalist of Hell's Kitchen.

"I, uh, can't seem to stop staring at a blank screen."

Maz pointed a finger at her with a knowing smile. "Writer's block. There's a cure." She walked over slowly, pulling out a bottle from behind her and set it down in front of Rey. "Scotch."

"That helps you write?"

Maz laughed. "No. No, it just helps me not care so much."

"Yeah, well, that's definitely my problem. I care, probably too much, about all of it." She thought about that night again. "I don't even know if I should start with the hostage crisis, or Ben, or vigilante justice... That's just garbage."

"Well, it's news," Maz said simply.

"No, it's not." She furrowed her brows. "Not anymore. I mean, all the facts about that have been reported already."

Maz sighed. "Look. If you want torture yourself this holiday, go ahead, child. But at least write something new. Something different. Something that only you can write."

"Which would be what?"

"The truth. Your truth, Rey. All of it. Everything that you've been through. Don't pull any punches. This is New York. People think that they've seen everything. Prove them wrong. Tell them something they don't know. Hell, I'd read the crap out of that."

Rey looked at her, feeling comfort in her support. She nodded, looking back at the screen.

Maz headed back out the door before she called out behind her, "I'll expect two thousand words in my inbox before Santa shows up."

×

_What is it, to be a hero? Look in the mirror and you'll know. Look into your own eyes and tell me you are not heroic, that you have not endured, or suffered or lost the things you care about most. And yet, here you are a survivor of Hell's Kitchen the hottest place anyone's ever known. A place where cowards don't last long. So you must be a hero. We all are. Some more than others, but none of us alone. Some bloody their fists trying to keep the Kitchen safe. Others bloody the streets in the hope they can stop the tide, the crime, the cruelty the disregard for human life all around them. But this is Hell's Kitchen. Angel or devil, rich or poor, young or old, you live here. You didn't choose this town. It chose you. Because a hero isn't someone who lives above us, keeping us safe. A hero is not a god or an idea. A hero lives here on the street, among us, with us. Always here but rarely recognized. Look in the mirror and see yourself for what you truly are. You're a New Yorker. You're a hero. This is your Hell's Kitchen._

_Welcome home._

By Rey Johnson.

×

"Read your article."

She pulled out her gun, aiming it at the figure standing in her apartment. When she recognised who it was she slowly lowered it. The familiarity of pulling a gun on him was unnerving.

"You're good," Ben complimented. Disregarding the gun she had in her hands. "At writing."

She put her gun back in her purse and dropped her keys into a glass dish on a shelf. She had gotten a concealed carry permit after everything had happened. The feeling of being a target didn't fade easily.

She folded her arms, ignoring his comments.

Her voice was quieter than she liked, slightly cold. "Where have you been?"

"I had business."

"Business," she scoffed as she hung her head. "So what? You have more people to go after?"

He said nothing.

She cleared her throat of emotion. "So where does that end, Ben?" Rey bit the inside of her lip to contain herself, but she couldn't stop that feeling of loneliness and fear overwhelm her. "Because I look at you and my heart breaks, because all I can see is just this, this endless, echoing loneliness."

He furrowed his brows, looking at her with denial in his eyes. "I'm not lonely."

She walked up to him. "Bullshit. We are all lonely." Her voice was desperate and thick with emotion. "I sometimes think that that is all that life is, we're just... We're just fighting not to be alone."

She was so vulnerable with him. She _could_ be so vulnerable with him. Something she never was with anyone else, not truly.

"So what do you want? What should I do?" He looked at her expectantly, a gruffness in his voice. "Should I let it go?"

She stepped forward. "No, but I want there to be an after. For you." At his silence she shook her head at him. "You're so damn caught up in this, this endless cycle and you don't see."

"See what?" He asked, and it was her turn to be silent. "See what? Say it."

Her nose twitched frustratedly at him and she let out a scoff. "Believe it or not, I actually _care_ what happens to you."

He was silent, his eyes flitting between hers.

She wanted him to hold her, like he had that day in her apartment. But she shook that thought out of her head as she softly told him, "Just let me help you. I promised you that."

"Look, I know you, Rey. You're brave. You're strong. But you are so goddamn stubborn, and you will throw everything away for me, and I cannot let that happen, all right?"

"So, it's okay for you to risk everything, but not me?" She asked, offended by his words.

"Don't do that." He shook his head as he stepped away from her. "You have people, people that love you and need you. And I, I need to know who did this to my family."

"What if there's a better way?" Ben instantly shook his head, but she persisted, stepping forward and placing her hand on his chest to stop his objections. "What if you and I figure it out together?"

"No. No, there's no – good ending here Rey. Not for me."

She spoke over him. "Ben, listen to me. You can't keep doing this. You can't keep pushing away people who care about you."

"There's no light at the end of the road. There's no light," he whispered lowly in a serious tone.

"There could be if you let it," she whispered. Her hand slid up to his face, but he turned away from her touch.

"No."

"You could choose to..."

He placed his hand over hers, and electric fire burning through her. "I don't want that,” he lied. “I can't."

"You could choose to love someone else instead of another war," she pleaded.

"No. I don't want to." He stopped to control the emotion that entered his voice. "I can't – Don't you see? I can't go after these men and keep you safe."

She furrowed her brows. "You don't have to."

"Don't have to?" His voice turned dangerously dark. "My family's gone because of what I know, Rey." He looked at her with terrified eyes, holding onto her hand. "I cannot let that happen to you, you got that? I cannot let that happen... I can't lose you too." 

A tear slipped down Rey's cheek. She nodded, disappointed overwhelming her but she had to try one more time. "You asked me to stay before – "

"Rey please," he whispered desperately.

"I'm asking the same." Her voice cracked. "Just don't walk away. Just stay. Just stay with me."

He stared at her with such an intensity and she could see the desire behind them. Echoing hers. His fingers swept her tears away, brushing against the skin of her neck as his fingers tangled into her hair one last time.

She turned her head towards him as he leaned down, their lips pressing against each other. Their intense need to belong and their desperate yearning collided, and it was euphoric. She felt angry at him for leaving, for wanting to leave again just like everyone else had and so she rushed the kiss – somewhere between passionate and frustration. But he slowed it, a large hand settling on her back which pulled her closer towards him. Like he was saying goodbye.

They pulled apart. His forehead pressed against hers. Electricity crackling through her before she felt a balance settle between them.

“I can’t lose you, Rey,” he whispered

She swallowed before whispering back. “So don’t leave, because I can’t lose you too.”

There was a long silence as they stood like that in her apartment.

He finally pulled away and looked at her carefully. “It would be dangerous.”

She tried to mask her surprise. “I can handle myself.”

“I don’t doubt that. But these people… They’re worse than those shitbags I’ve already taken down.”

She nodded.

“You really wanna do this?”

“Yes.” She wet her lips and folded her arms. “Now I am far from forgiving you for what you did. But… You saved me.” She smiled. “Countless times. But no matter how I feel about you, it doesn’t change the fact that you deserve the truth, Ben.”

He nodded solemnly.

“When are we going after them?”

He smiled. “Whenever you’re ready, ma’am.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaaand yes I am shit at writing endings. I am so sorry to have disappointed you but I have rewritten this ending like seven times and the first few times didn't even include a kiss (fucking crazy ik) anyways I have a lot on my plate rn and I am also hitting that point where i'm getting writer's block for all the fics i'm still writing so ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ 
> 
> Some of you will be wondering what the flying fuck happened in Kandahar... Well I'm happy to announce that there will not be a sequel to this because if I had to go through adapting a show into a fic again, no matter how fun it was, I will literally run onto a highway. So take this as a massive ad for Punisher (no I'm not sponsored) because all the answers are in the first season.
> 
> Hope I didn't completely disappoint you ;)


End file.
